


Here I Go Again

by saddle_tramp



Series: The World Belongs To Me [3]
Category: Captain America (2011), Hulk (2003), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Language, M/M, discussion of suicidal depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-25
Updated: 2012-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saddle_tramp/pseuds/saddle_tramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fandom:  Marvel Movies Universe AU<br/>Spoilers:  Spoilers for the entire Marvel movie ‘verse INCLUDING <i>Avengers</i>. Also spoilers for the 2012 Marvel comic <i>Battle Scars</i>.</p><p>Rating:  R for language and sexual situations<br/>Warnings: Language, mentions of past torture, depression, discussion of suicidal feelings, and minor D/s behaviors. </p><p>Additional Characters: Several OC agents of my own invention. Mentions of Rhodey Rhodes, Agent Sitwell, Bucky Barnes, the Howling Commandos, Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, Doctor Erskine, Ho Yinsen, and Obadiah Stane not necessarily in that order.</p><p>Additional Pairings: past Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, past Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, hints of unrequited Tony Stark/Clint Barton and Tony Stark/Phil Coulson</p><p>Summary: </p><p>Steve has vivid memories of pulling together team of misfits to fight a ruthless dictator bent on world domination, and now he’s been thrown seventy years into the future and asked to do it again. Turning a group of heroes, assassins, and one laid-back doctor (except when he wasn’t) into a team doesn’t sound that hard to him, not compared to all he did in the war, but he soon realizes he wasn’t given even half of the real story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here I Go Again

**Author's Note:**

> This verse goes AU just after _Thor_ , but includes large parts of _Avengers_ canon from the first part of the movie in an altered form. Waiting for a threat to the very existence of the human race before you introduce your dream team to each other is beyond stupid, and Phil totally wouldn’t let Fury get away with it in this ‘verse, so the Avengers began a little bit differently. It went further AU that I expected it to, mostly in the minor details, but I ran with it anyway. ;-D
> 
> Also, concerning Bruce’s canon from the 2008 _Hulk_ movie, I’m assuming that happened at least five years before _Avengers_. I think that fits best with the canon given in the movies.
> 
> This is a direct sequel to my other Avengers movie ‘verse fics, _Trouble_ and _On The Edge_ , beginning a little over a month after _On The Edge_. Please read the other two first or you won’t know some very important backstory for this fic and some of it won’t make any sense.
> 
> Title from the Whitesnake song _‘Here I Go Again’_ , which is definitely Steve’s theme in my head. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything I borrowed here is property of Marvel and so not mine, I'm just borrowing a few of their characters to let them have some fun. Anyone you don't recognize might be mine, but then again they might just be so obscure no one but me ever noticed them. I'm not making any money or fame off of them anyway, so no harm no foul, forever and ever, Amen. 
> 
> No copyright infringement is intended, and none of this ever happened. Dangit.

 

Steve looked around his room, taking in the blank metal walls, uncomfortable old chair, and ugly metal shelving that held the books Fury had given him a few at a time over the last month, most concerning the military history. He had no fictional books except for a novel by a guy named Tom Clancy that Agent Lewiston had gotten for him after he requested something besides history books, and there were no trinkets or pictures to soften the unforgiving austere lines of the room. There weren’t even any drawings or a sketchbook to show he had been there. He hadn’t seen a single pencil since he woke up, and never saw anyone with paper he could borrow a sheet or ten of. People carried these electronic things called tablets that looked pretty interesting, but when he had asked Fury about them he had been told he didn’t need one and Fury had changed the subject quickly.

There was nothing in the room Fury told him to consider ‘home’ to say it was _his_ room, nothing to make him want to be there, and Steve knew that it was no coincidence that the room felt like a cell. He had overheard enough from the ‘fellow soldiers’ that popped up to keep him company anytime he left his room to know he wasn’t being allowed to roam _anywhere_ that other people might be around, locked away in a sub-basement with at least two hand-picked agents on watch at all times in a room down the hall. They even had their own ‘lunch room’ where they were given food that was familiar to him, but when Steve wasn't around he had overheard the agents make comments about it being bland and old-fashioned compared to the cafeteria food upstairs.

Steve had overheard a lot, actually, much more than he had let on, and knew he was supposedly under guard to protect him from the possibility someone might accidentally break him with too much knowledge of the future. The fact Steve wasn’t an idiot and was quite capable of adjusting to sudden and complete changes to his world seemed not to matter in the face of Fury’s insistence it was for his own good. Fury said he needed time to grieve for the people he had left behind, time to adjust to the reality that the night he crashed that plane might seem like a few weeks ago to Steve but was in fact _seventy years_ ago, and at first Steve had believed the man had only his best interests at heart. As more time passed though, Steve spent more and more time in labs being poked and prodded and told to do all kinds of crazy things from doing a handstand on one hand for over an hour to actually _masturbating into a cup_ , and each day his faith in Fury ebbed more and more.

Steve was beginning to feel like a lab rat, trapped in his maze and being poked and prodded by people who wanted things he didn’t understand, and he was starting to give serious thought to how he could get out of there again. He knew it wouldn’t be as easy as it had been the first time he bolted, and that the world outside was completely different from the one he had known in so many ways it had made his head spin when he saw it the first time, but he was also sure that people were still people and he would be able to get along with them just like he always had. He had gone from being an asthmatic weakling to being dubbed Captain America in less than a week, after all, and later made the jump from dancing monkey to being a combat veteran in the space of a _day_ , so he was used to sudden life-changing experiences that altered everything about his world. He was confident he could make his way in the noisy, crowded world Fury didn’t want him to see, and he was itching to find a way to get out there where he could prove it.

The desire to leave, to escape, made Steve antsy, and he turned away from the room that had become his prison, opening his door to head for the small gym that had been cobbled together for him in a large storage room nearby. Agents Roy and Lewiston looked up from their card game in the ‘break room’ at the end of the hall, smiling at him as Lewiston called, “Bored, Cap?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, giving the agents a smile even though it was the last thing he felt like doing. “I’m going to get on the treadmill a while.”

“Let me know if you want some company,” Lewiston said, smiling back. “I could stand some exercise.”

“I will,” Steve agreed, and then he ducked into the gym’s open door, closing it behind him and then walking towards the treadmill in the corner. He was almost there before he suddenly realized he could smell chocolate. He noticed that he could hear someone else breathing then and he stopped, looking around warily for a moment before he lifted his gaze to the ventilation grate he had just passed and met the startled eyes of the man that was sitting inside of it, a candy bar halfway to his mouth. The man was wearing tight black clothes and looked military, his grey-blue eyes wide and startled, and Steve’s eyebrows lifted as he asked dryly, “Is there a reason you’re lurking up there like an assassin?”

“I am an assassin,” the guy replied almost absently, then blushed and added quickly, “But I’m not here to kill you, Steve. I’m just… Checking up on you.”

Steve blinked, surprised. No one he had yet met called him by his name except for Agent Coulson, who had been very sweet and kind of adorable as he stumbled over gushing about how he had admired Steve since he was a little boy. Steve had still been talking to Coulson when he overheard Fury murmur to Assistant Director Hill that Coulson used to be one of the scariest men he’d ever met, but that seeing him fawn over Steve was enough to make him wonder if the guy had lost his edge completely since he married someone named Barton.

“Fury can’t just post people outside my cell now, he needs to _hide_ my keepers?” Steve asked after a moment, deciding suddenly that he was through pretending he didn’t know he was a glorified prisoner.

The guy in the air duct grinned suddenly. “Tony said you were starting to see through the lies.” The guy put his candy bar back into a wrapper and tucked it into a pocket, and then did something that Steve couldn’t see from outside the vent, making the grating swing open soundlessly. The guy scooted out of the vent and dropped lightly to the floor, every move graceful as he took two steps closer to Steve and held out his hand. “Clint Barton, I kind of work here, sometimes. Fury might have mentioned me when you met Phil Coulson. Phil said Fury checked four times to make sure I wasn’t with him that day.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he stared at Clint, shaking his hand automatically. “ _You’re_ married to Coulson?!”

Clint smirked, looking smug. “Three weeks tomorrow. Tasha – that’s my best friend – is still pissed that we went to the courthouse instead of letting anyone plan a wedding.” He seemed to think of something, eyebrows lifting as he asked, “But who told you about it? I kind of thought Fury was keeping you so far under a rock you weren’t hearing gossip.”

“But, you’re a _guy_ ,” Steve said, still feeling like his whole understanding of this new world had just been tipped up on its ear. “And _he’s_ a guy, and he’s _military_. He told me he was in the Army!”

“He was,” Clint said, starting to look less pleased. “So was I, we were both in a Special Forces group called the Rangers, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be together, not anymore. Things have changed since you crashed that plane, Steve. Being gay isn’t illegal anymore. The government even gave us the right to serve openly in the military now, and we have the right to marry in a few states with things getting better all the time nationwide. One of these days it’ll stop being a question whether or not we’re allowed equal rights.”

“Gay used to just mean happy,” Steve said quietly, feeling suddenly a little lightheaded. He knew things had changed, knew that especially applied to the attitude towards sex after Fury had introduced him to Peggy’s niece and told him she was allowed in his quarters with a sly grin that made it plain what he was offering her up for. Steve had been offended on the girl’s behalf at the implication she was a lightskirt until the girl, Sharon, had laughed and said she wouldn’t mind people thinking that she was sleeping with him, especially if it was true. Steve had been so shocked that he said what he thought before he took time to reconsider, and he hadn’t seen her since. Evidently her reputation didn’t matter to her, but Captain America saying he wasn’t interested in any woman who slept around was still enough to offend her.

Clint smiled wryly. “Not anymore, Steve. These days gay, queer, and homosexual are all pretty much the same thing. A lot of people are bisexual – like men and women – these days, but they get called gay or queer too unless they hide who they are. They call hiding it being in the closet now.”

Steve lifted one hand, running it over his face as he looked away for a moment and then suddenly looked back at Clint. “And no one cares?”

“Oh no, a lot of people _care_ still,” Clint said with an amused look, fishing his candy bar back out of his pocket.

The label wasn’t familiar to Steve, but the name on it was and he wondered what he’d have to do to get Fury to let him have a few for snacks. He’d always loved Milky Way bars.

Clint eyed Steve as he took a bite, looking thoughtful, and then reached into another pocket and produced another Milky Way, asking cheerfully, “Want one? I always carry a few candy bars for vent work, and these are Phil’s favorite so Jarvis keeps a box of them in the freezer for snacks.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, giving Clint a quick smile as he took the candy bar, a small part of his mind wondering who Jarvis was. “I haven’t had one since before the war.”

“Probably a little different now, but they’re good,” Clint said with a quick grin, watching Steve open the candy and take a bite.

Steve groaned softly at the taste, so much richer and more delicious than anything he’d been offered since he woke up, and Clint smirked. “God, that’s good,” Steve mumbled around a mouthful, chewing and swallowing before he added, “Best Milky Way I ever had.” Bucky had brought home a Milky Way bar for Steve whenever he had the extra cash to get one and Steve had loved them, but this new bar was bigger and tasted even better than he remembered. He took another bite, savoring the rich chocolate and wondering if all candy would be even better now.

Clint started talking again, distracting Steve from thinking about candy bars. “Anyway, yeah, some idiots still don’t like gay people. There’s all kinds of hate groups saying that people like me and Phil and quite a few others you’ll meet soon are perverted and that we corrupt kids everywhere just by existing. I mean, pretty much the whole Republican party thinks we should go back in the closet and stop pointing out we’re Americans too, but it’s not like it used to be when people _died_ just for being found out. There are scattered hate crimes still, and people get harassed every day for being gay, but now at least it’s a _crime_ to attack someone for their sexual orientation, so it’s major progress over when it was illegal to even _kiss_ the wrong person.”

Steve was quiet a few minutes, eating the candy bar while he thought about that, and he was glad that Clint gave him the time, just munching his own snack and waiting patiently for him to say something. Steve had always liked other men a little more than he was supposed to, even loved one, but he had liked women too. Well, some women, anyway. Ones like Peggy, who was sharp and tough and beautifully confident in herself and her ability to kick the tail end of any man that tried to get in her way. He had loved Peggy, but over the last month he had come to realize that it hadn’t been the til-death-do-you-part kind of love he thought it was.

The lady shrink that came to see him twice a week expected the grief he still felt so crushingly sometimes to be for Peggy so Steve had let her think that it was, but the truth was he was still mourning Buck, missing his grin and his sparkling eyes and his smart remarks that made Steve laugh even when he knew he shouldn’t. Steve missed Peggy too, of course, missed her like he’d miss his arm if he lost it, but he missed Howard almost as much, or even Dum-Dum and the other Commandos. They had all been family to Steve, people he felt responsible for and cared deeply about, and it hurt knowing that they were all dead.

Steve had kept secrets from the people he considered family, though, kept them even from Bucky who had been the only one besides Peggy and the Colonel that really remembered the skinny, sickly kid he used to be. The only person that had ever known how he felt about Buck was Peggy, who figured it out on her own, but she had never told anyone as far as he knew. Peggy had made sure he knew not to let on to his feelings anywhere it could be overheard even by his friends. An American officer she had worked with before she went to New York to be part of Operation Rebirth had gotten drunk with his unit and ended up flirting with an Italian man, and then had gotten killed in action the next day. Peggy had been sure one of his own men killed him, though she hadn’t been able to prove that, and she had warned Steve not to tell _anyone_ about his feelings for Bucky because she feared he might end up the same way. Steve’s feelings for Bucky had been the main reason that he and Peggy never got beyond being close friends, but he knew she had lied more than once about exactly what they were to each other to protect him.

“I bet it’s different for people in the spotlight,” Steve said quietly after a few minutes, meeting Clint’s gaze again. “People that the public looks up to, I mean.”

“People like you?” Clint asked gently, smiling softly.

Steve took a moment to consider before he nodded. “Fury wouldn’t like it.”

“Fury doesn’t like _anything_ except Hill,” Clint said, smiling a little wider. “Don’t try to live your life to please him. He’d have you stuck here unless he wanted you in combat, just so no one else could corrupt you and give you the chance to think for yourself.” He grinned suddenly. “He’d have a _cow_ if he knew I was in here right now. I’m the last person he wants influencing his new secret weapon.”

Steve stiffened. “I am _no one’s_ weapon.”

Clint’s grin widened. “Ha! Tony thought you were in there somewhere. Hi, Cap! Nice to meet you.”

Steve blinked and then let out a surprised little laugh, running his hand through his hair as he looked away. He kind of deserved that, he knew. He’d been acting like he did in the early days, when he just went where they told him and played dancing monkey all the time, doing the tricks he had been taught and wearing his costume. He thought of something else then and looked back at Clint as he asked, “Won’t you get in trouble when he sees you in here? I know they monitor these rooms. There’s even cameras in the _bathrooms_. Fury came down himself to apologize for violating my privacy after I found the one in mine and filled the lens with spitballs.”

“Normally he would see everything in here, yeah, but I got a secret weapon of my own.” Clint turned his head and tapped his right ear, drawing Steve’s attention to a tiny device that was _inside_ his ear, a miniature pale blue light suddenly blinking on for a moment to let him see it more clearly before it went dark again. Clint turned his head to look back at Steve, smirking. “Cameras don’t see me, at least not right now. As far as Fury’s concerned, I’m taking a nap on the couch in Phil’s office while Phil and AD Hill go over the files on a fresh batch of recruits just in from Afghanistan.”

“Afghanistan… That’s near Iraq, right?” Steve asked, remembering what he had read in the most recent history book Fury gave him. “Are they from Operation Desert Storm?”

Clint blinked. “Uh, Afghanistan is by Iraq, yeah, but Desert Storm was in the early _nineties_. This is twenty-twelve, Steve. Phil was in Desert Storm, but that was a long time ago, at least to us. The second war in Afghanistan and Iraq has been going on for years now. I fought in it at the beginning, before SHIELD pulled me off the line to beef up their sniper division after I made some impossible shots and caught Fury’s eye, then nearly got myself canned for insubordination because I refused to shoot a man who was holding his six-year-old daughter. I wasn’t going to make that little girl’s last memory of the dad she obviously loved be seeing his brains splattered all over a wall. My spotter reported I had refused the shot and our CO ordered us back to base, but I stayed on the guy until I could kill him without the kid around. I got my target, but I also came close to being shot on sight when I returned to base. I was on my way to a court martial when Fury showed up and took me back to the States.”

Steve frowned, remembering Fury’s insistence that the last history book he’d gotten would bring him up to speed. “So Fury’s been hiding even more than I thought. I mean, I knew he wasn’t telling me much, he mostly only gives me military history books unless I ask over and over again for something else, and then I still got a history book. I tried getting Lewiston to bring me some fiction, and the book he brought me reads like another military history book so I stopped asking.”

Clint sighed, looking annoyed. “We knew they were keeping you in the dark, Steve, but damn.” He looked a little away from Steve and went on talking, and Steve’s eyes widened when he realized Clint wasn’t talking to him. “Jarvis, has Phil had a chance to get all of this?” Clint paused, obviously listening to whoever Jarvis was. “I can get Steve up to your office if he doesn’t mind small spaces, sir, but I don’t know how we’d get him out from there.” He fell quiet again and then snorted. “Tony, you know I love you, but no. You are not breaking him out with Iron Man. Jarvis, lock the suit down. Access code four one, one nine seven six, chocolate fried bananas, three zero nine zilch.” Clint listened for a moment and then smirked. “You know it, baby. That’s why I get to have the codes. You’re gonna get killed if you try it, he’s twelve floors down underground, below the super-top-secret level even _Phil_ hasn’t ever seen. So not happening on my watch.”

Steve realized _complete strangers_ were talking about risking their lives to get him free, and he couldn’t allow that. “No, forget it. I can get myself out. If Fury won’t let me go, I’ll break out when I talk him into letting me see the sun. He’s been making noises about taking me up on the roof soon to look around.”

Clint turned back to Steve, looking skeptical. “Nothing against your abilities, Steve, but breaking out of here isn’t going to be easy. Once you’re inside this building, moving around through the ducts is easy, but you can’t get _out_. If you could, I would’ve found it. I’ve been roaming around in there for years.”

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt trying to get me out,” Steve said firmly. “I will handle this.” He paused and then asked, “If _do_ I manage to get out, where do I go?”

Clint seemed to listen to the thing in his ear a moment and then gave Steve a wry smile. “If you make it to the street, flag down any yellow cab and tell them you need to go to Stark Tower.” Clint unzipped the vest he was wearing that had all the pockets, reaching into an inner pocket to take out his wallet and then offer Steve two hundred-dollar bills. “This will make sure the cabby works hard to get you exactly where you need to go. Give the cabby one of them when you get in and tell him to go to Stark Tower, and tell him you’re in a hurry so you’ll give him another when you get there. When he gets you to a huge skyscraper with Stark in big letters up high on the side, give him the other one and come on in. Jarvis will know when you make it out of this building, so someone will be waiting for you when you reach the tower.”

Steve took the money and tucked it into the pocket of his sweat pants, wishing he didn’t have to but sure he had no other choice. Fury had _said_ he would get his ‘pro-rated back pay’ deposited in a bank account and supply him a ‘debit card’, but so far neither had happened. Steve had no cash and no way of getting any, and little hope of quickly navigating the confusing warren of people and noise he’d seen when he blundered into Times Square the first time he broke out. Hailing a taxi would make everything much easier, and he could work off the money. If a taxi ride was two _hundred_ dollars these days, he should be able to earn that much with a day’s work. “I’ll pay this back.”

Clint was silent for a second and then laughed. “Tony says to sign Phil’s Captain America trading cards, and you’re even.” He leaned closer to Steve and stage-whispered loudly, “It’ll make them worth around a million dollars, all together. No one in the world has a full set of _signed_ Captain America cards.”

Steve laughed. “I can do that.” He paused and then asked, “You mentioned Stark Tower. Howard Stark?”

“Tony Stark,” Clint said, grinning. “Howard’s son. You’ll like him, Tony’s awesome, even if he is way too sure of his own amazingness.” He paused slightly then smirked and said, “You know it’s true, Tone, don’t even start. If there’s one thing you’re not, it’s _shy_.”

Steve grinned. “Howard was never shy, either. He was always juggling dames that wanted to get with him for his money or his fame.” He laughed, remembering when girls that didn’t even know who Stark was would throw themselves at him. “Or his looks. He didn’t have to wear a paper sack over his head in public, for sure.”

Clint grinned at Steve. “Sounds like you just might like Tony. He’s all that and more.” He paused and then looked away as he said a bit exasperatedly, “No, Tony, I will _not_ tell him that! You can flirt with _Captain America_ when he gets loose, ‘cause I am so not going to do it for you. I’m a married man and he’s not my type anyway! Now get out of my ear!” He paused and then rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I _know,_ Tony. Captain America was the name thought up to impress kids and civilians, but Steve Rogers is one of the most successful Special Forces officers in history. I _do_ know the difference, I _studied him_ in basic, you dumbass.”

Steve wasn’t really sure what to do with knowing Howard’s son wanted to _flirt_ with him, but he didn’t get any more time to think about it. He heard someone start walking down the hall outside just as Clint’s eyes went wide and he leapt into the duct, pulling it closed behind him and then somehow disappearing even though Steve could still hear him breathing.

Steve moved quickly to the treadmill and started walking on it, getting it moving just before the gym door opened and Lewiston stuck his head in, smiling. “Doing okay, Cap?”

Steve smiled and nodded to him. “Just fine. Something wrong?”

“Director Fury wanted to know if you’re busy,” Lewiston said.

“I’d _love_ to be busy,” Steve said feelingly, stepping off the treadmill. “What does he want me to do?”

“Some kind of meeting,” Lewiston said with a shrug and a grin. “I don’t get told anything, I’m just a grunt. All he said is if you’re not busy to have you get ready to go upstairs and meet a few people.”

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes, tops,” Steve said quickly, grinning at the thought of getting back upstairs. If he worked it right, he’d be free before the end of the day. If Fury refused to let him leave the building, he’d just flat break out.

Lewiston nodded. “I’ll pass it along.” He disappeared back out into the hall without waiting for Steve to reply.

Steve listened to his footsteps move away, then moved back to the vent and peered into it. Clint unrolled from the ball he had curled up in, grinning at Steve as he murmured, “You’re meeting Bruce Banner. Phil was giving Fury hell about keeping you locked in the basement again because he’s awesome that way and Tasha and Banner overheard from the hall. Bruce decided to jump on the bandwagon and walked right into the meeting to say he wanted to meet you and ask why you were being treated like a criminal. Fury couldn’t scramble up a good excuse not to let Bruce meet you, so you get to get out of your box for a while.” Clint grinned widely at him. “Now I gotta scram, and you gotta shower because you were just working out.”  He winked at Steve and then twisted into an improbable knot in the air duct before he started moving away down it, fast and silent on just his hands and his feet, which Steve finally noticed were bare except for thick black socks.

Steve watched Clint until he suddenly slithered out of sight into a vent going upwards, then he turned to head for his quarters and the bathroom there. There was a shower off the gym, but the cameras in there still worked and Steve wasn’t about to give any more free shows if he didn’t have to.

 

~*~*~

 

Bruce looked across the meeting table at Fury, breathing slow and careful as he worked to slow his body to a calm state despite his lingering anger. He had stood outside the door with Tasha long enough to realize Captain America had been locked up in the basement for over a month, and just the _idea_ had made his blood pressure rise almost to the danger point.

Fury had called someone named Lewiston and had him check on ‘Cap’ and see if he was available for a meeting, then a few minutes later Lewiston had let Fury know Cap would be glad to get out of his room and the gym for a while. Lewiston had made a point of telling Fury that Cap was so bored out of his skull that he was walking on the treadmill just to have something to do, but Fury had cut him off and ordered Lewiston to bring Cap up when he had changed and then ended the call before Lewiston could say any more. Fury had ushered Bruce into a chair and then sat down at the head of the table, and they had been sitting in silence for the last fifteen minutes, waiting.

Phil Coulson, one of the few senior SHIELD agents who had actually taken time to befriend Bruce and spend some time talking with him, was sitting at the table across from Bruce, and he broke the silence suddenly, making Bruce turn his attention that way. “Nick, I still don’t understand why you’ve done this, but if you would just _explain_ I might actually be swayed to your view. It’s happened before, and surely you have _some_ rational reason behind locking _Steve Rogers_ up in a glorified jail cell for a _month_ and denying him any knowledge of the world he’s supposed to be acclimatizing to.”

Fury scowled. “He has books! I gave him a couple dozen good history books and he hasn’t asked for more yet.”

Phil snorted. “Carefully picked to show him only a sanitized view of what you want him to know, I’m sure.”

“The psychologists say—“ Fury started, but Phil interrupted him.

“Bullshit,” Phil said firmly, “just like shrinks _always_ say. I’ve spoken with him, Nick. He’s not neck deep in PTSD _or_ too fragile to be allowed out of a controlled environment and _you know that_. Steve is a reasonable, intelligent man you seem to have locked up for your own amusement, and it’s _wrong_.”

“It’s for his own good!” Fury exclaimed, angry. “He’s so innocent it _scares me_ , Phil, and he’s too trusting to realize that people today aren’t like the ones he remembers. If he goes out into the world right now people will try to _use him_.”

“Like you’re doing?” Bruce said mildly, making Fury and Phil both look at him in surprise. Bruce met Fury’s gaze, proud of the outward calm he had finally found again despite the seething anger in the back of his mind. “That _is_ what you do, right? That’s why I’m here, or at least that’s what you said, and it’s why most of your agents are here, like Natasha. You want a security force for some emergency that hasn’t even happened yet, and you’re putting together a team of very unique people to deal with it.”

Fury was silent a long moment, just staring at Bruce, then sat back in his chair. “I’m building a team of Earth’s mightiest heroes, to be held ready to protect the planet when you’re needed.”

“Do you know what I was told in college, when I joined the soccer team?” Bruce asked, making Fury actually blink in surprise. “The coach took me aside after the third practice and said, ‘ _There’s no I in team, son. You’ve got to learn more about your team mates or you’ll never make it in this sport because when the time comes you won’t know how to react._ ’”

Fury let out a low huff, looking kind of like he had tasted something nasty. “Are you telling me you won’t work with Cap because you don’t know him, Doctor Banner?”

“I’m telling you that no team works unless they _are_ a team,” Bruce said dryly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Teams need to feel some sense of unity and camaraderie to work well together. It’s the basic principle behind the US military being broken into small units within a large one. When you know the man next to you, know his strengths and weaknesses, you can fight more effectively with them. If we don’t know each other, don’t _care about_ each other, then your ‘team’ will just be a bunch of people fighting at the same time, theoretically on the same side.”

There was a knock on the door then, and Fury was still looking thoughtfully at Bruce as he called, “Come in!”

The door opened and Natasha’s friend Clint stuck his head in, looking curiously over at Phil. “A little birdy told me there’s a meeting in here I really want to be at, sir?”

Fury growled, “Get in here, Barton. You too, Romanov, I know you’re out there. I’d rather have you in here where I can watch you than out in the hall waiting to meet him unsupervised.”

Clint sauntered into the room with a smirk, walking around the table towards Phil as Natasha slipped into the room and moved to sit at the end of the table, leaving one open seat next to Bruce. She gave Bruce a small smile and murmured, “Tony wanted to come when he heard we might get to meet Cap, but he can’t make it.”

“Yeah, his ride’s out of commission,” Clint added, grinning widely as he slid into the chair next to Phil.

Phil gave Clint an amused look, murmuring, “One of these days he will get tired of you and JARVIS ganging up on him.”

Clint smirked at Phil. “Not today, sir. JARVIS won’t let him out of his sight when he’s this excited, not any more.” Clint dug into his pocket, pulling out his sleek dark purple Stark phone and laying it on the table in front of him as he added, “He wants to listen in, though.”

“Absolutely not,” Fury said firmly. “Turn it off.”

Clint made no move to do as Fury said until Phil murmured, “Clint.”

Clint made a face and picked the phone up, thumbing a button and then tucking it back in his pocket as he muttered, “He’s gonna have a _fit_ when we get home, sir.”

“I have no doubt,” Phil agreed dryly, giving Clint and amused glance. “He’ll survive, and so will you.”

Bruce wasn’t sure if Phil and Clint were sleeping with Tony or not, but he had the strong feeling that they were. He knew that on the rare occasion Fury had let Tony into the building to talk to Fury’s science team, Clint was usually Tony’s shadow the whole time. He had even walked into Phil’s crowded office once and found Phil doing paperwork while Clint was stretched out on the tiny couch reading an ebook with Tony sprawled out on Clint’s chest asleep, so he _knew_ they were all very close.

There was a tap at the open door then and Bruce turned his head to see a tall, muscular man with blond hair and a hopeful look on his face. He was wearing khakis and a button-down _pink_ plaid shirt, and just the sight of it made Bruce’s anger bubble up a bit. Fury could have issued Cap some decent clothes at least, something _comfortable_ instead of fitting him out like an over-protective mom might dress a nerdy child for school. All that was missing was suspenders and a pair of dorky glasses and the poor guy could be dressed up as Urkel.

“Permission to come in, sir?” Cap asked very respectfully.

“Of course,” Fury said quickly, suddenly all smiles as he stood. “Come have a seat, Cap. I’ve got some people I want you to meet.”

Cap walked slowly into the room, looking first at Phil and Clint, then at Natasha and finally at Bruce before he looked back at Fury. “Is this the team Agent Coulson mentioned I would be part of?”

“Part of it,” Fury agreed easily, shooting Phil an annoyed glance that quickly turned into a smile as he looked back at Cap. “Doctor Banner here—“ Fury gestured at Bruce. “—suggested that you should all get to know each other, and I agree.”

Clint snorted, making Bruce glance over to meet Clint’s gaze as Clint mouthed to him, ‘ _Way to go, Doc_.’

Bruce smiled, giving Clint a wink that made Clint grin at him, and then he looked back towards Cap just as Cap looked at him.

Cap moved towards Bruce, offering him his hand as he said feelingly, “Thank you, Doctor Banner. I was starting to wonder if they’d _ever_ let me out of the basement.”

Bruce shook Cap’s hand, smiling wryly at him. “I know the feeling, Cap. They did the same thing to me when I first got here a few weeks ago.”

“Call me Steve, please,” Cap— _Steve_ said quickly, smiling at him. “Captain is my rank, not who I am. And how did you get the Director to let you out so fast?”

“I told him I’d be angry if I didn’t get a room with windows and actual sunlight,” Bruce said calmly, smiling. “I don’t know what you’ve been told about me, but I have a ... problem with my temper. Even Fury doesn’t want to make me angry.”

“Yeah, he turns into a fifteen-foot-tall jolly green giant and smashes everything in sight,” Clint piped up, making Bruce look at him sharply. “It’s _awesome_ , Steve. The other guy is indestructible and can jump for _miles_ when he wants to.”

“It’s not exactly awesome for _me_ , Clint,” Bruce said dryly. “You may enjoy watching from a safe distance, but I find it very unpleasant to lose hours of my life and have no idea what the other guy did.”

“Which is why we need to hang out more,” Clint said, smiling at Bruce. “There’s got to be a way to make friends with the other guy. He’s _smart_ , I’ve watched all the videos. There’s a lot more there than just the rage. I mean, if there wasn’t, he wouldn’t be so careful of little kids and women. It’s just soldiers he doesn’t care if he hurts.”

“Or kills,” Bruce said quietly. “I have killed more than my share, never meaning to.”

“Not unless they attacked you,” Clint pointed out, “and not near as many as me. Killing is my _job_.”

“Mine as well,” Natasha said softly. “A wise man once told me that having so much red in my ledger did not make me evil, it simply means I have more to do to even the scales.” She smiled at Phil, looking fond and grateful.

Phil smiled back at Natasha, murmuring, “You have, Tasha. I’m proud to know you and call you family.”

Natasha flushed slightly high on her cheeks, her usual unreadable expression disappearing into a breathtaking smile that made Bruce wistfully wish that she wasn’t so afraid of the other guy that lived in his head. He would have liked to get a little closer to her, see if they really had as much in common as he thought they did, but she was too wary to ever allow it. Even being in a room with him made her nervous unless she was between him and the door, so Bruce was careful to make sure he never blocked her escape routes.

Steve spoke up hesitantly then, making everyone look at him as he asked, “Can I have a room with a window, Director? I haven’t seen the sun in what seems like forever.”

Fury sighed, looking regretful as he said, “I’m sorry, Cap, but no. We don’t have any personnel quarters with windows open right now.”

“He can stay with us,” Clint said suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention to him as Clint looked at Fury challengingly. “He couldn’t be safer than he would be under JARVIS’ care, and the suite that Tony set aside for him has whole _walls_ of windows. His bedroom has been ready and waiting for him for weeks.”

Fury snorted. “Absolutely not. You’d have him getting in all kinds of trouble.”

“I think I can keep _myself_ out of trouble,” Steve said, and when Bruce looked quickly at him he saw Steve was frowning at Fury. “I’m an adult, sir, not a child. I can say no when I have to and make it stick.”

Bruce turned back to Fury, feeling kind of like he was in the middle of a tennis match but not wanting to miss a thing.

Fury had that sour look on his face again like he had tasted something unpleasant. “Barton and Stark are both unreliable and very ... _unsavory_ types, Captain. I know it may _seem_ like a good thing to get out of here right now, at least to you, but it wouldn’t be.”

“I don’t agree,” Steve said, frowning as he folded his arms over his chest and lifted his chin slightly. “And I’m starting to get the feeling it’s _me_ that you don’t trust, sir.”

“Of course I trust you,” Fury said quickly, looking surprised. “You’re _Captain America_.”

“Then trust me to make my own choices,” Steve said firmly. “Is the Stark that owns the tower Clint mentioned any relation to Howard?”

“His son,” Fury admitted reluctantly. “Tony Stark is very like his father, right down to the drinking problem and the tendency to bring random people home to his bed every night. He’s not the kind of man you want to be friends with, Captain.”

“Tony does _not_ have a drinking problem any longer,” Phil said sharply, drawing everyone’s attention to him. He gave Fury an annoyed look as he added, “He hasn’t even had a glass of wine with a meal since the day before Steve woke up, and he does _not_ sleep around anymore either, which I _know_ you already knew. ” Phil looked over at Steve, adding, “The reputation Tony earned in his wilder days –“

“Last month!” Fury said pointedly.

Phil went on like Fury hadn’t spoken. “—lingers because those who don’t like being confronted with someone so much more intelligent than they are continue to spread the rumors. Tony hasn’t dated anyone since a very painful break up a few months ago, and likely won’t any time soon.”

“He doesn’t need to,” Fury said with a disgusted look at Phil. “He sleeps with you _and_ your husband.”

Phil glared at Fury. “Your prejudices are showing again, Director. Occasionally, when Tony’s having a bad night and needs reminded that he’s not alone or needs help to keep him from looking for a bottle, he sleeps in our bed, yes, but as you have been told repeatedly, _nothing happens_.” Phil looked at Steve, adding, “Tony is a very close friend of mine, and of Clint’s. We care deeply for him, but Clint and I _meant_ our wedding vows. Tony sleeps in our bed occasionally to ensure his safety and sanity, and for no other reason.”

“I’ve slept with men for similar reasons more than once, sir,” Steve said, giving Phil a respectful nod and a slight smile. “It happened a lot on the battlefield. Some nights it was so cold or we were so shocky from battle fatigue that my whole team would end up together, huddled under whatever blankets we could find and so tangled up that nobody knew where he ended and the next guy began. It’s nothing to be ashamed of as far as I’m concerned.” He looked at Fury, a hint of coldness suddenly in his voice as he added, “And I’m not sure I can trust any man who thinks it is. I knew before I was _ten_ that sleeping with my best friend didn’t mean anything but that neither of us wanted to be alone, but even if it _had_ meant something else I’ve heard that it’s completely legal now for people to prefer their own gender.”

Fury stared at Steve for a long moment and then said, “It is.” He paused, still staring at Steve, then said, “You’ve obviously decided what you want, Cap. Mind letting me in on what that might be?”

Steve’s chin lifted again as he shifted, almost like he was bracing himself for a blow. “I want out of my cage, sir. If you won’t let me out, I’m not sure how much longer I can force myself to wait before I take matters into my own hands. I know it’s different out there, that things have changed, but I’m never going to learn how to live in the real world if I don’t see it for myself.”

Fury stared at Steve for a long moment and then looked at Phil, obviously angry. “Well, it looks like you got what you wanted. He’s all yours. If you lose him, it’ll be your head.”

“Over my dead body,” Clint said coldly, giving Fury a glare that made Bruce think Fury was lucky Clint was unarmed.

“And mine,” Natasha added, “and Tony’s as well.”

“And mine,” Bruce said quietly, making Fury look at him in surprise. “I want out, too. I think that being an Avenger might be the only way I can start to make up for the things I’ve done, but I want out of this building. You made all kinds of promises to get me here, but you haven’t kept most of them. All you’ve done is poke and prod me in every way your scientific team could come up with, and I am very tired of being treated like a particularly valuable lab rat.”

“There are rooms waiting for you too, Bruce,” Phil said calmly, “as well as a lab with everything you’ll need to continue your research in peace, should you wish to. Tony has been gathering the equipment for weeks, hoping you would want to try his hospitality.”

“I’d like that,” Bruce said, smiling at Phil despite his surprise. He had gotten the feeling Tony liked him, but he hadn’t realized he liked him that much. The equipment needed for serious medical research was very expensive as a rule, and also often hard to find.

“So it’s settled,” Steve said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “The Avengers will be in Stark Tower if we’re needed.” He gave Fury a frosty smile. “Sir.”

Fury looked around at each of them, his gaze finally stopping on Phil. “You told me it would come to this weeks ago, but I didn’t believe it could happen.” Most of the fight seemed to be gone out of him, and he finally looked calm. “I’ve hardly even let you talk to Cap, but you still turned him against me somehow.”

“No, you did that yourself,” Phil said with a sigh, looking vaguely sad. “I’ve tried so many times to explain why some particularly exceptional people simply can’t accept your methods, but you still refuse to listen. No one likes to be treated like a _possession_ to be jealously guarded and hidden away until you want to show them off. Steve is Captain America, yes, but first he is Steve, a young man who fought long and hard for his country but seldom had much patience for being treated like a lab rat. I was sure it was only a matter of time before the way you’ve treated him began to chafe, just as it did when politicians tried to use him to further their own interests instead of allowing him to be the man he was always meant to be.”

Fury took a few slow breaths in the silent room, still just gazing at Phil, and then he finally said, “I guess I’m lucky I have you to take the Avengers in hand and give them what I evidently can’t.”

Phil smiled. “You are, even though I know you don’t believe it. When we’re needed, we’ll be there. Until then, you know where to find us.” He stood, and then added, “But do call before you come visit. JARVIS won’t let anyone into the penthouse elevator unless one of the permanent residents is with them. It’s part of the security system.”

Phil touched Clint’s shoulder lightly and Clint stood up, murmuring, “I’ll help Steve pack, sir. You and Tasha can help Bruce, I bet he has a lot more stuff.”

“I can pack in two minutes,” Steve said quickly, and Bruce noticed finally that Steve was grinning despite a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “All I have is some clothes, and they’d all fit in a duffle if I can get one.”

Phil smiled at Steve. “I’m sure we can find someone willing to loan you a bag, Steve.”

“Lewiston would do it, I bet,” Clint said, grinning at Steve as he started around the table. “He’s a good guy, and he probably knows you pretty well after getting guard duty with you for so long.”

Steve looked pleased, nodding. “He does. We’ve talked a lot.”

Clint waved at the door. “Well then, quit doing your statue impersonation and let’s get moving, Steve. We got things to do.”

Steve laughed and left the room with Clint right behind him.

“You better know what you’re doing, Phil,” Fury said softly. “There’s a lot riding on the assumption we’ll have the Captain when we need him.”

Phil gave Fury a slightly annoyed look. “Possibly, but he’s still just a man. _You_ wouldn’t last three days locked in that dungeon you’ve had him in and we both know it. You’d go off the deep end and get yourself killed trying to make your way up to the surface again.”

Fury blinked his good eye and then smiled wryly. “Yeah. I would. Might not even make it three days.”

“So consider it proven that he’s tougher mentally than even you, Nick, and trust us to take care of him,” Phil said, smiling despite his firm tone as he moved around the table towards the door. “Clint and I are a very good team and we’ve proven that we’re capable of not only helping a broken man find himself again, but doing it well. Tony is emotionally stable, sober, and at the top of his game again after two years of trauma that nearly killed him a dozen times over, and he’s making breakthroughs _daily_ that no other man on earth can match. Steve is in much better shape than Tony was when we were assigned to help him, and I have no doubt he’ll be perfectly fine.”

“It’s having him around Stark that worries me the most,” Fury said, standing up. “A leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

Phil laughed. “Tony has never been a leopard, Nick. He just wore the hide so no one would know he was a gazelle.” He smirked and walked out without letting Fury reply.

Fury snorted, looking at Natasha. “At least _you_ still don’t like Stark, right?”

“Tony has changed, Director,” Natasha said with an unreadable expression, standing up. “When I met him, I wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him if I got the order, but now I would need much more to convince me it was necessary. He’s a good man who would do anything for a friend, and he would die to protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

Fury looked surprised. “You really think he’s changed that much?”

“I _know_ he has,” Natasha said calmly. “Phil and Clint have worked wonders on him that I never would have believed were possible, had I not watched them do it.” She gave Fury a respectful nod. “Sir.” She walked out without another word.

Fury looked at Bruce, pursing his lips. “Was there something more, Doctor Banner?”

“Yes, there was,” Bruce said with a slow calm smile. “I want you to step back and give us a chance to be what we were meant to be.”

Fury’s eye narrowed slightly. “Which is?”

“A team brought together to make the world a safer place,” Bruce replied, still smiling. “I came here peacefully when Natasha was sent for me because I hoped it was possible for me to make reparations for all I’ve done, but I didn’t _believe_ until today. These people you named the Avengers can be something special if you’ll stay out of it and let us do our thing.”

Fury just looked at him for a moment and then started for the door. “Pack your stuff and get out, Banner. Like I said before, it’s all on Phil’s head now. If you people screw up, he’s the one who’ll pay the price.”

“It’s not very smart to threaten my friends,” Bruce bit out angrily, fighting down a surge of pure rage.

Fury stopped at the door, looking back at Bruce. “I don’t make threats, Doctor Banner.” He left without another word.

Bruce growled softly, fighting for control as he began the meditation he had been so successful with for the last six months, determined not to let the seething rage get the best of him. He had things to do, more important things than he had ever realized, in fact, and he refused to start by demolishing SHIELD headquarters, no matter what he thought of Fury.

 

~*~*~

 

Steve could hardly believe how things had changed in just a day as he looked around the breakfast table in his new home. The day before he had eaten a breakfast of what truly _had_ been very bland oatmeal with only Mark Lewiston and Jake Roy for company, both men friendly but unwilling to tell him very much about anything he had been able to think of to ask them about. They had been happy to talk about _Steve,_ of course, but that didn’t do Steve any good at all when he wanted to learn about the modern world he was stuck in.

Today, for the first time since he woke up, Steve was eating breakfast with people he felt like were his _friends_.

Tony was sprawled in the chair next to Steve in an undershirt and worn old jeans, practically cuddling a mug of coffee with one hand while he munched on a strip of bacon held in the other hand, talking sleepily with Bruce between bites of food. There was a plate of toast with some vividly green jelly on it in front of Tony along with several more strips of bacon and two finger-sized sausage links. Tony also had a large glass of something that _looked_ like orange juice, but was in fact made from mangoes according to Clint, who had used the tablet someone left on the counter the night before to show Steve a picture of an odd-looking fruit that Tony immediately claimed was his favorite.

Bruce was to Tony’s left, dressed for the day in new-looking jeans and a grey t-shirt that said _‘Ask about my anger management issues, I dare you.’_ on the front in neat block letters that looked suspiciously like the same handwriting that labeled most of the leftovers in the huge refrigerator. Bruce was obviously amused by Tony as he slowly and methodically made his way through an omelet filled with mushrooms and something green that Steve thought was probably spinach. The omelet actually had more of the greenery and the mushrooms than of the thin layer of eggs wrapped around it, but Bruce seemed to like it that way. Along with his omelet he had a large bowl of fruit, whole strawberries mixed with chunks of what Clint had said were pineapple, papaya, two kinds of melon, a handful of whole blueberries, and a double handful of an odd looking little red fruit that Tony had called a pomegranate when he plucked one from the bowl.

Phil was sitting next to Bruce on the other side, wearing a nice pair of black trousers and a white dress shirt with a suit jacket and tie draped over the back of his chair. He was smiling and seemed happy as he spread cream cheese on a bagel and talked with Pepper, who was sitting next to his other side wearing a snazzy red suit and looking beautiful with her hair all piled on her head and subtle makeup bringing out her eyes in a way that had made Steve look twice when she walked into the room. Pepper was working on something on her own tablet computer while she ate an odd-looking purple goop called yogurt that was layered into a tall glass with fruit, bits of chocolate, and granola. Pepper seemed to love the yogurt ‘parfait’ as much as Phil obviously loved his bagels with lox and cream cheese, eating happily in between pauses to talk to Phil and do arcane things with the tablet. Steve had tried listening to them talk at first, curious what they were working on so early in the morning, but he had quickly tuned them out when he realized he only understood one word in five.

Natasha was sitting next to Pepper, listening to Pepper and Phil talk with intense interest but very seldom saying a word. She wore a simple black suit and had put her brilliantly red hair into a bun, making her look a bit like a friend of Peggy’s that Steve had met in her office once. Natasha’s breakfast was the complete opposite of Pepper’s, fried potatoes and onions piled next to sausages and fluffy scrambled eggs doused in a chunky red sauce she had called salsa when she asked Clint to bring it to her. Natasha’s drink of choice with her breakfast had been something called vitamin water that was the most unlikely shade of blue Steve had ever seen in any kind of food, even though Natasha had asked for a raspberry drink so it seemed to Steve it should have been red.

Clint had just taken the seat between Natasha and Steve for himself, looking cheerful as he dug into a plate loaded down with the potatoes Natasha had, more of the scrambled eggs, bacon, and a piece of toast with the green jelly. Clint had been the last to sit down because he had done all of the cooking except for Bruce’s omelet, serving all the others and making sure everyone had what they wanted before he filled his own plate, and Steve thought that was pretty typical of the man he was beginning to learn was happiest when he was making sure the people he cared about were happy.

Clint noticed Steve watching him and gave him an easy smile, asking softly, “Need anything, Steve?”

Steve shook his head, smiling as he murmured, “Just thinking how lucky I am you were in that vent yesterday.” Clint looked a little surprised at that but pleased, and Steve added, “I could still be stuck in that ugly box they had me in, eating what one of the guards called nursing home food, but you changed all that.”

“I didn’t do it alone,” Clint argued, still looking surprised. “Phil and Bruce did most of it. I just ran my mouth a little.”

“You just gave me _hope_ ,” Steve corrected quietly. “I didn’t think I had any options until you told me I had somewhere I could go, somewhere _better_.” He smiled, reaching for his glass of milk. “Now I have friends, and a home that doesn’t feel like a prison cell, and in just a day I’ve learned more about the world than I learned in a _month_ with Fury.”

Clint looked at Steve for a long moment and then smiled crookedly. “I didn’t really do much, Steve, but you’re welcome. I would have done anything I had to do to help you get out. You earned it.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, looking down at his own plate of food.

“We all would,” Tony said suddenly on Steve’s other side, making him look at Tony in surprise. Tony was watching him with an unreadable expression, dark eyes intent and completely awake finally. “If word got out what Fury did to you, Steve, you’d have had most of the US military and half the civilian population clamoring to free you. You’re a national hero, and you paid for _everything_ any of us can do to help you a hundred times over.”

Steve realized everyone had fallen silent and he looked around, surprised to meet smiles or nods from everyone. “I just did my job.”

“You just _saved the world_ ,” Tony corrected. “Schmidt’s plans were found after you left on that plane. He intended to kill off pretty much the whole world except for his own carefully chosen subjects, not just blow up New York. If you hadn’t put a stop to it, the planet would have been beaten back to the stone age with only Schmidt and Hydra left with the technology and the power to rule.”

Steve shuddered at the thought, then looked at Tony as he repeated, “I was just doing what I was _made_ to do.”

Tony smiled at Steve. “So are we.”

Steve blinked and then shook his head. “No, it’s not the same. I was— I was _nothing_ , not until Howard and Dr Erskine made me into the man I am now. They gave me this body because the country needed someone to rally behind, and I have to do all I can to repay that gift.”

“No, you don’t,” Tony pointed out, suddenly serious again as he sat forward in his chair, turning his body to stare intently at Steve. “That’s the _point_. You don’t _have_ to do _anything_ , Steve. You never did. You could walk away right now and live out your life in Ohio on some farm in the middle of nowhere, raising kids and corn and living the American dream, but I know you won’t. You’ll stay, and you’ll fight because you feel the need like we do, the burning _desire_ to try to make the world a safer place, one fight at a time. You’re _glad_ to stand up for what you believe in, eager even, and you not only do it well, but you never gave up even when supposedly smarter people told you victory, even _survival_ , was impossible _._ That’s why Erskine chose you, and why Aunt Peggy was so impressed by you _before_ Erskine and Dad gave you the super soldier treatment, and that’s why you’re here right now. We all want those same things, and we’ll all gladly fight next to you, _die_ next to you if we have to, because we _are_ the team Fury wanted to build, Earth’s mightiest heroes in fact, even though we won’t fight for _him_. We won’t even fight for ourselves, not really.” Tony picked up his mango juice and the toast with the odd green jelly as he stood up, and then he walked out of the kitchen as he added almost cheerfully, “We’re the Avengers, and we fight for the _world_.”

Steve swallowed hard, looking around the suddenly silent kitchen at the others only to find them all looking at him. Phil and Pepper looked a little concerned, but the others just seemed to be waiting to find out what his reaction to Tony’s speech would be. “I’m not anything special,” Steve said quietly after a short search for words. “I’m just a guy from Brooklyn, trying to pull my share.”

Phil smiled warmly at Steve. “That’s the most impressive thing about you, Steve. So many other men would let the power and influence you have just by _existing_ go to their heads, but deep down inside you haven’t changed. You’re still the determined young man from Brooklyn who stood his ground against bullies even though he knew he couldn’t win, never giving up no matter how many times they knocked you down. Dr Erskine wrote in his notes that you were the rarest thing on earth, and you’ve proven him right over and over. You’re a truly _good_ _man_ , strong and loyal and filled with the need to do the right thing and protect those weaker than yourself.”

Steve looked at Phil for a moment longer and then looked down at his plate, trying to find words for the confusion of thoughts and feelings in his mind. He wasn’t special, _he_ knew that even if no one else seemed to, but he couldn’t find the words to explain _why_ he wasn’t any more impressive than Clint or even Pepper.

Clint reached over and put a hand on Steve’s back, making Steve look at him as Clint smiled and teased gently, “Stop thinking before you break your brain and eat your breakfast instead, or I might start thinking you don’t like my cooking.”

Steve smiled wryly. “I do, but you’re right. I wouldn’t want to waste any of it.”

“That’s the spirit,” Clint said, still grinning. “And pass Tony’s plate. Abandoned bacon is totally fair game.”

Steve laughed, picking up Tony’s plate and snagging the two sausages left on it before he passed the plate on to Clint, who snickered and said, “I’ll remember you like those.”

Steve found himself grinning at Clint as he said cheerfully, “Best sausage I’ve had in seventy years.”

Clint laughed at that along with several of the others while Steve just turned his attention back to his plate, trying to follow Clint’s advice and not think about anything except the new friends that he had around him and the delicious food on his plate. He was really very lucky, luckier than he felt he deserved to be, in fact, and he was starting to wonder if maybe Tony was right and he had earned a little peace and happiness.

It would be a nice change, if it were true.

 

~*~*~

 

Bruce lingered at the table long after he had finished his breakfast and Clint and Steve had cleared away the dishes, checking his email on Clint’s tablet as he relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of having people around him who not only liked him, but didn’t fear him, either. He finished all of his email, mostly notes from scientists he had worked with at SHIELD and publications from people he had flagged for notifications when they posted on certain subjects, and then he finally shut down the tablet and stood, stretching with a low pleased groan before he headed for the door, intending to go see what Tony was up to.

Bruce had never visited Stark Tower before Tony had the penthouse renovated the most recent time, but from Tony’s excited rambling the day before when he gave Bruce and Steve the tour while Phil and Clint made dinner, he knew that pretty much everything had been changed in the last month. The main floor and those above it had been completely renovated, turning a penthouse made for huge parties and impressing clients into a warm, comfortable home despite the futuristic design of many things in it. The lowest level of the penthouse apartments held the large kitchen, a living area, three rather large home offices, and a room Tony called the sun room, which was a long narrow room surrounded on two sides by windows, including two at the far end that were actually sliding glass doors leading out into a patio and pool area.

When Bruce left the kitchen, he chose the door that let out into the living room, a large open space surrounded by windows on two sides that gave a beautiful view out over Manhattan all the way to Central Park on one side and to the East River on the other. The room had obviously been redone with the team in mind when the furniture was chosen for it because there were plenty of seats for them all, plus four or five guests. There was a pile of oversized beanbag chairs off to one side of the three comfortable looking couches and four chairs in the middle of the room, all situated to give a good view of each other and the bank of windows to the east, which Bruce had discovered could double as a huge television screen when Clint cheerfully declared the previous night to be movie night.

(Sitting on one of the couches and watching the huge screen had been much better than any theater Bruce had ever been in, and the food had been better as well after Tony appeared from the direction of the elevator with a _bucket_ of popcorn and a large bag of candy and shakers full of popcorn seasonings that he cheerfully declared were from the employee appreciation center on level ten. Evidently there was a small movie theaterwith full concession stand down there, along with a gym, a day care center, an indoor pool, and a Starbucks café, all supplied by Tony for his employees to use and enjoy. The level was accessible only if you had a Stark Tower ID card like the one Bruce had found on his dresser when he looked around his new suite of rooms, but if you had the card to gain access everything was available for free, which made Bruce more certain than ever why so many of Tony’s employees were almost fanatically loyal to their beloved boss. They obviously knew how lucky they were.)

The largest living room couch was in full sunlight that time of the morning, illuminating the man that was sitting on it and making Steve’s blond hair shine golden as he sat there quietly, gazing out over the city with a slightly awed smile. He looked happy to just relax there and enjoy the view, and Bruce smiled as he continued through the living room to the staircase that led upwards to what Tony had called his ‘playtime lab’ on the first level. The private bedroom suites were on the levels above that, topped finally by the glassed-in temperature-controlled garden that took up the entire roof of the penthouse and supplied their kitchen with fresh fruits and vegetables. The rooftop garden had evidently been Phil’s idea, something that he mentioned he had enjoyed about his old apartment in the summer, but Bruce liked the idea too and was looking forward to going up and getting his hands dirty.

Bruce stopped at the closed plas-steel door at the top of the first flight of stairs, smiling still as he asked, “JARVIS, is Tony too busy to give me that tour of the labs he mentioned yesterday?”

“He is working on the Mark VII at present, Doctor Banner, but I am sure he would be very glad to have your company,” JARVIS replied immediately, sounding pleased as the door opened in front of Bruce, letting out a sudden blast of loud music. “He has been looking forward to it.”

Bruce smiled wider. “Thank you, JARVIS.” He walked into the lab, looking around as the door closed behind him.

Tony’s lab had obviously once been intended as a completely different type of room, with an open floor plan and what looked like marble floors leading out to a curving balcony that looked out over the city on one side of the room and to a wide half circle balcony on a slightly lower level that gave a view of the city around the tower as well as looking over the surprisingly large pool and patio area on the lower floor, a helipad, and a smaller empty area on another portion of the lower roof that looked as if Tony hadn’t yet decided what to put there.

Inside the lab itself there was a large display case that held several different versions of the Iron Man armor, topped by an indoor balcony that circled the room past two other doors to end at a narrow circular stairway straight to Tony’s bedroom on the next floor up. On the main floor of the lab there was what had obviously been intended as a bar for large parties, but Tony had turned it into a very expensive workbench, scattering the dark marble surface with pieces of another set of armor that shone brilliant red and burnished gold under the bright lights above it. The racks behind the bar that used to hold bottles and glasses were now neatly filled with tools of all shapes and sizes, most of which Bruce didn’t even recognize, and the large center mirror had been turned into a video screen that was showing a constantly changing montage of at least two dozen channels in neatly arrayed boxes.

Tony was at the bar, sitting in a tall swivel chair and working with what looked like a bracelet, holding a tool that looked like a screwdriver handle with a piece of wire sticking out of it except for the fact a pale blue _laser_ shot out of the end of the wire, soldering something and sending up a tiny wisp of smoke. The robot Tony had introduced the day before as Dummy turned the claw-like arm that seemed to be most of the robot’s body towards Bruce, trilling just barely loud enough for Bruce to hear over the loud music he wasn’t sure he even wanted to _try_ to make sense of.

Tony kept working for another minute or so and then turned off the laser and looked up, his serious expression melting into a wide happy grin as he called loudly over the music, “JARVIS, kill the tunes!”

The room fell blessedly silent and then JARVIS said with obvious relief, “I will be happy to, sir.”

Bruce smiled wider, amused as he walked over towards the bar. “Thanks, JARVIS. I could hardly hear myself think over that racket.”

“Racket?!” Tony exclaimed, putting a hand to his heart in mock pain. “That hurt! Metallica isn’t _racket_ , it’s awesome music by one of the best bands ever.”

“It’s noise pollution,” Bruce countered dryly, amused. “And don’t try quoting AC/DC at me, either. AC/DC _is_ good rock and roll. That you were just listening to had nothing in common with anything Bonn Scott ever did.”

Tony looked surprised and pleased, grinning. “You like AC/DC?”

“Among others,” Bruce agreed with a smile. “Contrary to popular opinion, not all scientists listen to classical music.” He paused, and then added truthfully, “Though I do like Solti’s versions of some of the classic pieces, especially Tchaikovsky’s _‘1812 Overture’_ , and I enjoyed some of the classical remakes of popular music I’ve heard.”

Tony laughed. “Classical’s okay in the right situation, but I need something with a lot more backbone to work at my best. Metal just …” He trailed off, seeming to search for words to explain it, then shrugged. “I think _better_ with it. Faster, no mistakes in my math, new ideas that just spring to mind ready to build and _work_ the first try. I figured it out when I was at MIT, sharing lab space with a professor who couldn’t get anything done unless she had techno music blaring so loud it actually shook the windows sometimes. I worked better with her and her music than I ever had before, but I’m not a big fan of techno so when she left the next year to take over a project at NASA, I started experimenting with different music.” He shrugged. “I built the first repulsor unit while I was working with a heavy metal station on satellite radio, so I stuck with it. I can work with other stuff, but I do my _best_ work, fastest and right the first time every time, when I listen to stuff like that.”

“I never tried working with music going,” Bruce said thoughtfully, wondering if any studies had ever been done on the subject. “Does it have to be so loud to work?”

Tony grinned. “No, I just like it that way. I don’t want to be distracted by any noises the three stooges decide to make, or by whatever movie they’re watching.”

“They watch movies?” Bruce asked, surprised and amused.

Tony pointed over towards a corner Bruce hadn’t really paid attention to before, and he laughed when he saw two of Tony’s robots were sitting by a viewscreen mounted low enough it was obviously just for them, watching _Short Circuit 2_. “They’ve been getting a kick out of Johnny Five this week, ever since I left the lab door open and Dummy managed to figure out how to roll down the stairs and go exploring.” He grinned, giving Dummy a fond look. “Now we know better though, don’t we Dummy?”

Dummy let out a mournful sounding series of beeps, lowering his claw like a dog might hang its head, and Bruce had to bite his lip not to laugh. It was still a bit surreal to him that Tony’s robots were much more human than any he had ever encountered before, even though they definitely didn’t look the part. Dummy resembled something you might see on an assembly line in any car manufacturing plant in the world, but he _acted_ like a child, or maybe an especially smart dog.

Tony grinned and winked at Bruce, then started looking around as he asked, “JARVIS, where did you put that rag dispenser you and Pepper insisted on?”

“Here, sir,” JARVIS said dryly as a ‘drawer’ in the bar slid open to reveal a stainless steel container with a fluffy-looking shop rag sticking up out of the top. “Perhaps if you used a clean one more often, sir, you would be able to remember where they were.”

Bruce chuckled as Tony grabbed a rag and said breezily, “It’s wasteful to get another one every time I wipe my hands when I had a perfectly good one on the bench already.” He looked around as he wiped his hands, adding, “And I _know_ I had one out to use already, so I’m thinking you got Dummy to steal it.”

“It was filthy, sir,” JARVIS said quickly, sounding exasperated. “I am very sure that wiping your hands on it put more grease onto them than it took off for most of the morning yesterday, and you no doubt would have continued to make the situation worse if Master Phil had not returned with our new residents in tow.”

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment and then laughed. “Well yeah, probably. You can win that one, JARVIS.” He put the rag he had just used on the bar next to the bracelet he had been working on, adding quickly, “Just don’t make a habit of it. This rag’s perfectly fine to use again.”

“If you insist, sir,” JARVIS replied, sounding a bit resigned. “Though I feel that I must point out that Dummy and I launder all of the rags we ‘steal’ and return them to the dispenser for use again, and it would not harm you in the slightest to have _clean_ hands. You no doubt ingest large amounts of industrial lubricants each day because you so seldom wash your hands before grabbing a snack.”

“A little Stark-made axle grease never hurt anyone,” Tony said cheerfully, moving around the bar towards Bruce. “And I actually kind of like the smell of it on my hands. Makes me feel like I’m right at home no matter where I am.”

Bruce’s lips twitched as he stifled a laugh, teasing Tony dryly, “Because of course your home is the lab, not the extensive penthouse apartment around it.”

“Yep,” Tony agreed cheerfully, slinging an arm around Bruce and starting him moving towards a wide double-door at the back of the room, next to the stairway that led up onto the interior balcony. “Only reason I don’t ever sleep in here is because it makes Phil and Clint worry about me, and then they end up down here in the middle of the night which isn’t fair to Phil.”

Bruce looked at Tony, amused even though he wasn’t exactly comfortable with having Tony’s arm around him. He wasn’t used to being touched anymore, not for more than a moment anyway, and he barely knew Tony even though he liked him and felt like they could be very good friends. “But it’s perfectly alright to wake up Clint?”

“Clint never sleeps all night anyway,” Tony explained as he suddenly released Bruce, staying close but not holding on to him anymore. He was still cheerful and seemed happy so Bruce didn’t comment on it, taking it as proof that Tony was excellent at reading people. “He can’t sleep eight hours to save his life, so him waking up and coming to check on me doesn’t bother him at all. Phil, he sleeps all night without ever budging as long as he’s not worrying over something, and if he doesn’t get enough sleep he wakes up with nasty headaches. I don’t want to be the cause of that any more than Clint does, so we try hard not to wake him.”

“Makes sense,” Bruce agreed, pausing as they reached the doors. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“Your lab, duh,” Tony replied, grinning at him as he waved to the fancy lock on the door. “Go on, let JARVIS scan you and make sure it’s you. Once he’s got your baseline, no one else will be able to get in the lab unless you tell him to give them access.”

“Not even you or the others?” Bruce asked, surprised.

“Only in an emergency,” Tony said firmly. “I read all your research and know the kind of things you were into before your accident, and you don’t need Steve or Clint poking around in them. They’d never mean to, but who knows what kind of trouble they’d cause. It’s better if you control access, then no one can get in unless you’re ready to supervise or you think they know enough to be safe.”

“And in emergencies?” Bruce asked curiously, pleased that Tony had actually thought about what concerns he might have with his work, even though he didn’t intend to continue his research into gamma radiation. He had finally come to feel it was a field that could live or die without his further input. He was going to turn his talents to doing something useful to the world at large, though he wasn’t completely sure what that would be yet. Well, besides being an Avenger. He still wasn’t sure exactly how much help he could be to the team, but he was going to try very hard to convince the other guy to work with them.

“In an emergency, JARVIS has discretionary powers over every room in the building.” Tony smiled wryly. “Phil insisted on it, and JARVIS and Clint both took his side so I agreed. I have a habit of locking doors behind me and hiding when I’m really messed up about something, and they needed a way to get to me if JARVIS thinks it’s necessary.” He paused and then added, “Clint also has the codes to disable the Iron Man armors and lock them all down so I can’t get to them to do anything stupid, and Phil can override my orders if JARVIS agrees with him that it’s necessary.”

“That’s what Phil meant when he said Clint and JARVIS had ganged up on you yesterday,” Bruce said with dawning understanding. “You were going to fly to SHIELD headquarters for the meeting.”

Bruce wasn’t going to comment on the fact Phil and Clint seemed to have more power over Tony’s life than Tony did. With Tony’s admittedly impressive weaponry and reputation for being unstable, it was likely a good thing that someone kept him stable and under control now. Phil had mentioned that Tony was thriving under his care, and it definitely seemed to be the case. Tony was obviously happy and the fact others could control him seemed to make him feel safe in a way that Bruce actually envied a little. He had problems with self-control too, to say the least, and just the _thought_ of finding someone that he could trust to keep him from doing anything he would regret later was enough to make him sad. He was fairly sure that such a person didn’t exist, but that didn’t keep him from _wanting_ that safety.

Tony grinned sheepishly. “Fury can’t keep me out if I land on the balcony outside his office, and I _really_ wanted to be there. Listening in just wasn’t the same, but I behaved myself.”

“You were listening?” Bruce asked with a surprised smile, forcing himself to concentrate on Tony and not on his own problems. “Fury ordered Clint to turn off his phone.”

“The phone was never transmitting to me,” Tony replied, smirking and smug. “Clint had a comm unit in his ear. I could hear everything he did, I just couldn’t _see_ any of it. Fury had the cameras removed from his private briefing room, the paranoid bastard.”

Bruce laughed even though he had to wonder how Tony had been able to stand hearing them discuss him. Some of the things that were said hadn’t been very flattering at all. “Tony, it’s not paranoia if someone really is snooping.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t _know_ I’m snooping,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “He’s just paranoid!”

Bruce just laughed again, turning to the door. “What do you need, JARVIS? Thumbprint or retinal scan?”

“Retinal if you please, Doctor Banner,” JARVIS replied promptly. “That and my other scanners will be more than sufficient to identify you should even a shape-shifter choose to attempt entry.”

“Shape-shifter?” Bruce asked in surprise, glancing at Tony before he leaned closer to the door for JARVIS to scan his retina.

“Like Mystique,” Tony explained. “She’s a mutant that can make herself look exactly like anyone on the planet, right down to giving herself metal claws like Wolverine when she wants to, but her baseline vital signs stay the same and she can’t change her DNA. JARVIS will pick up any anomalies in vital signs and request DNA identification before she can get past the first security checkpoint.”

“Thank you, Doctor Banner, that will be fine,” JARVIS said quietly then.

“You’re welcome,” Bruce replied automatically, turning back towards Tony as the double-doors slid open. “JARVIS monitors vital signs?”

Tony waved vaguely towards the wall above the door, and Bruce looked up to find a tiny camera there as JARVIS said, “I monitor the life signs of all those in my care, Doctor Banner. I have records of all baseline statistics on you all and access to your medical records to allow me to better protect my charges from not only outside injury but also from themselves.”

“For instance?” Bruce asked, curious.

“Master Clint has a tendency to zone out in the firing range and on the treadmill, pushing himself to the point of injury. With my monitoring capabilities, I am able to discern when he is nearing his limits and notify him before any true damage is done.”

Bruce nodded slowly, looking down at the heart monitor on his own wrist that would emit a warning sound before his heart rate reached a dangerous level. “And you’re capable of monitoring all of us like that, JARVIS?”

“Yes sir,” JARVIS replied. “I have been monitoring your vital signs since you entered the building yesterday, Doctor Banner, but I have hesitated to suggest that you could leave off your wrist monitor. I was not confident you would feel safe trusting me with such an important thing.”

Bruce looked back up at the camera. “Do you have the studies SHIELD has done on me recently?”

“Yes, sir, I do,” JARVIS said quietly, his tone of voice almost gentle. “I am aware of the danger level and quite capable of warning you and those around you well before the metamorphosis process begins.” He paused and then added a bit diffidently, “I am also capable of filling a room with enough sleeping gas to knock out a bull elephant, but I am unsure as to the efficacy of that method of handling on your other form. SHIELD’s records indicated that tests involving varying levels of sleeping and tranquilizing agents were on the agenda, but they had not yet reached that point.”

“No one had even told me they were planning that,” Bruce said dryly. “If they had, I could have told them that the other guy often metabolizes any sleeping agent as it if were an amphetamine. Tranquilizers have worked a few times, but I’m not aware of what compounds were used to do it. I asked, but the Army told me I had ‘no need to know’.”

“So yeah, no. All the knock-out stuff is off the table for Bruce, JARVIS,” Tony said suddenly, making Bruce realize he had been standing there silently letting Bruce and JARVIS talk as though JARVIS were any other human.

“Already done, sir,” JARVIS said easily. “I am very glad I took the chance to inquire before it might become necessary.”

“Yeah, you did good, babe,” Tony agreed, giving Bruce a searching look. “Is there _anything_ that stops the other guy? Reliably, I mean?”

“As far as I know?” Bruce half-asked, feeling like it should probably surprise him Tony called JARVIS ‘babe’. Tony nodded, and then Bruce gave him a crooked smile. “Betty Ross, whose father _General_ Ross issued her an ultimatum and will put her in lockdown in Cheyenne Mountain if he finds out she was in the same _state_ as me ever again. We email often, but we haven’t actually spoken in over two years.” He paused and then added, “She married one of the scientists we used to work with last year. His name is Jonathan, and he always worshipped her so she’s very happy with him.”

Tony let out a soft ‘huh’, looking thoughtful as he folded one arm across his chest, propping the other elbow on it to slowly stroke his beard with that hand. “What happened when she stopped the other guy?” He lifted his head. “If you don’t mind talking about it. If it’s hard on you, forget I asked and we can go back to the tour I promised you, let it go completely.”

“I don’t mind,” Bruce said quietly. “It’s never happened with anyone else that I know of, but I hardly ever know what happened to the other guy so I could be wrong. I know I never came back kneeling at anyone else’s feet.” He shrugged slightly. “Betty told me that all she did was let him come to her, and he would always fall at her feet looking sad and then after a minute or two he’d change back.”

“But you don’t remember it at all?” Tony asked, curious.

Bruce shook his head. “Sometimes I have vague memories, flashes of things he did, but most of the time it’s a blank between when I lost the battle to stay sane and when I woke up naked and wondering how I got there.” He paused and then added, “Mostly I wake up alone. The other guy has given in to me that much at least. He tries to avoid people now, if they’ll let him, but he usually takes over because I was attacked or hurt, which he doesn’t respond well to. He doesn’t lose fights, and seldom walks away from one until he’s the only one left standing.”

“Well, you won’t wake up alone anymore if I can help it, and I’m working on the naked thing,” Tony said, giving Bruce a quick smile. “I know Reed Richards, who’s developed this super-stretchy impervious material that he uses in his Fantastic Four suits, which should work for you. He and I are negotiating a deal on him making you some indestructible pants in exchange for me doing some fancy engineering for him, but he’s the real absentminded professor and it takes forever to get the asshole to do anything.”

Bruce stared at Tony a moment and then said slowly, “I— Thank you, Tony.”

“Hey, it’s what friends are for, man,” Tony said dismissively, smiling as he reached out to put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, turning him towards his lab and ushering him into it. “I’d do the same for any of the team. If I can make, beg, borrow, or steal a way to keep you guys safer and happier, I’m gonna go with it. That makes Phil’s life easier, and I owe that man everything I have if he ever asks to collect on my debt.”

“Everything?” Bruce murmured, still surprised.

Tony nodded, not looking at Bruce. “Yeah, I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him and Clint. There was a … really extremely terrible night a while back that I was very drunk and suicidal in the Malibu house, and they saved my life. I don’t remember it all, but I know Clint held me a long time before he helped me get out of my lab to where Phil was waiting for us, and then somehow they put me back together. I woke up in their bed the next morning feeling better than I had in weeks even _with_ the hangover.” He paused and then went on more softly, pain and sadness obvious in his voice even though his expression didn’t really show any emotion at all. “They were the only ones who really cared that I was dying inside, though. Pepper hadn’t even _noticed_ I was so messed up until Phil told her the next morning.”

“ _I_ cared, sir,” JARVIS said, sounding _hurt_ , which made Bruce wonder just how real JARVIS’ emotions were. “I knew long before that night that you needed help, as did Dummy. We did all you would allow us to do to try to help you cope.”

“I know you did, babe,” Tony said quickly, his gaze moving up and to the side to look at a small bubble protruding from the ceiling that Bruce realized was another camera. “You tried your heart out and you _did_ save me by asking for help even though I was too stubborn proud to do it myself, but there’s nothing else you could have done then to stop me.” He looked at Bruce again. “That’s one of the things that Phil insisted had to change when we moved here. I can’t order JARVIS to do anything that would keep him from ensuring my safety anymore, except in the armor, and even then only if another member of the team okays my decision.” He looked a bit disgusted. “And the sleep gas JARVIS has access to is as much for _me_ as for anyone else. He can knock me out now if he feels it’s the best course of action, and keep me under until help arrives.”

Bruce looked at Tony a long moment and then asked, “Was that when you started sleeping with them? After the suicide attempt?”

Tony nodded, looking kind of embarrassed. “I was _really_ messed up. Every time I was alone I found myself wanting a bottle or thinking of ways to use whatever was nearby to kill myself, so they made sure I wasn’t left alone. It’s… probably the only reason I’m still here.” He shrugged slightly. “They try hard not to leave me on my own too much even now, though I’ve gotten a lot better. Getting all the alcohol out of the tower helped a lot. It took us three days.” He looked away, flushing. “I had stuff stashed _everywhere_ and I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.”

“I was down that low for a while,” Bruce said quietly, making Tony look back at him in surprise. “I tried to kill myself a few times but the other guy kept me from dying no matter what I tried, so I finally holed up in Siberia with enough vodka to drown half the world’s sorrows, hoping to drink myself to death. I downed a whole bottle in just a few minutes and then I think the other guy must have had more of the vodka. I woke up in Tibet three days later with the hangover from hell.” He smiled. “That actually turned out to be a good thing, though. I woke up with a monk watching me from a safe distance, and he asked my story. He found me an isolated hut to stay in and he and two members of his order visited me daily for a few months to teach me meditation and control of my body and my emotions. It made a world of difference for me.”

Tony smiled at Bruce, his dark eyes warm. “Phil and Clint did the same for me, pretty much, just with less meditation and more of them holding me when I needed it. I’ve learned a lot from them about how to really _live_ my life, not just charge ahead blindly from crisis to crisis, trying to have as much sex and death-defying fun as possible in between. I haven’t gotten laid in almost two months, and that’s not something I’ve been able to truthfully say since I was thirteen.”

“You started young,” Bruce said quietly, wondering how many people Tony had ever really opened up to and if it was Clint’s influence he was seeing now. He knew Clint wasn’t afraid to share _anything_ if someone he liked and trusted asked him about it, his macho appearance hiding a man who was actually sensitive and surprisingly sweet. Clint was a very secure guy who was obviously happy to be with the others and do whatever he could to make their lives better, no matter how it made Clint look. Bruce figured that Clint had proven that the night before when he had spent half the movie painting toenails for Natasha and Pepper, who had both teased him about how good he was at it and then rewarded him with a kiss from each of them when he was done.

“I did,” Tony agreed, looking kind of wry. “People wanted me and I was interested, so I didn’t see any reason not to find out what the big deal was. My first time was with a girl I met at a party. She was nineteen or twenty, probably, and I had just turned thirteen. I had no idea what I was doing, but she knew and I was pretty happy to let her do whatever she wanted.” He shrugged. “I liked it, so I started paying attention when people flirted with me.” He paused and then admitted, “That’s about the time I started drinking, too. Alcohol was always around, and Dad was so out of it half the time he never missed what I took. Sometimes I didn’t even bother to hide it from him and he’d just watch me pour myself a shot, never saying a word.”

“That’s terrible,” Bruce murmured, wondering how Tony had even survived to adulthood.

“Yeah, so I hear,” Tony agreed, “but I didn’t know that then. I thought that was how life was supposed to be until I met Rhodey and he started telling me how his home life was with his dad and his little sisters.”

“Rhodey?” Bruce asked, curious. “Was he your first boyfriend?”

Tony let out a little laugh, looking away. “I wish.” He looked back at Bruce. “But no, Rhodey’s just a friend, like a brother now, really. I met him at MIT and we got close fast because he’s such a great guy. He was all the family I really had for years after my parents died, hell, even after I hired Pepper. It took her forever to stop thinking I was the most annoying asshole on the planet.” He grinned then, surprisingly open and boyish, and Bruce found himself smiling in reply.

“I’ll look forward to meeting him,” Bruce said, wondering if Rhodey was around often.

“You might get the chance soon, he’s been fussing at me that he wants me to upgrade the War Machine once I get the new Iron Man finished,” Tony said, smiling.

“The War Machine?” Bruce asked, surprised. “Rhodey has it?” He knew what the War Machine was. Betty had told him the man who piloted it refused a direct order to go after him in it, saying it was a suicide mission.

“Yeah, that’s his suit,” Tony agreed, nodding. “He took one of mine when he and I weren’t seeing eye-to-eye about a year ago, and I let him keep it when the dust cleared. He’s doing good things with it, and it keeps him a hell of a lot safer than any fighter jet could. Officially he’s still the military liaison with Stark Industries, but we stopped manufacturing weapons and only do limited support on them now, so these days it’s totally tech-based and he hardly ever has time to do more than send me an email demanding upgrades because he found some piece of film showing that I had upgraded my armor again.”

“I am sorry to interrupt, sir,” JARVIS said suddenly, “but it is nearly ten and Miss Potts would like me to remind you that you have an eleven o’clock meeting with Master Phil and Director Fury concerning the Uplift project and your insistence that the computer system must be designed by you for the project to be successful.” He paused and then added, “And Master Phil says you _will_ shower and make yourself presentable in a suit and tie that would be appropriate for meeting someone you wish to impress, or he will make you regret it.”

Bruce’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he wondered if maybe he had been wrong about the fact Clint still called Phil ‘sir’ being merely habit from their years of working together. From the sound of it, Phil was a bit more controlling than Bruce had thought, and he obviously expected to be obeyed.

Tony made a face. “Seriously?! He’s sending me to take a bath like a _child_?”

“It would seem so, sir,” JARVIS replied, amused. “I would suggest you do as he asks. You know what happened last time.”

Tony pouted at that, there was no other word for it as he looked at Bruce and grumbled, “I’d better go get cleaned up and make myself _pretty_. If I don’t, he’ll make me sit and watch _‘Beaches’_ again and there is not enough ‘no’ in the world to describe how much I don’t want that to happen.”

Bruce’s lips twitched. “You let him make you watch _‘Beaches’_?”

“It’s Phil!” Tony exclaimed, looking embarrassed and wide-eyed at the same time, as if it being Phil said all there was to say. Bruce lifted one eyebrow skeptically and Tony added quickly, “He’s got this annoying bad habit of always being _right_ , even when it’s something silly that seems like it couldn’t possibly matter. If he goes to the trouble to make something an _order_ and back it up with a threat, I’m going to do it. I might complain—“

“You _always_ complain, sir,” JARVIS put in dryly.

Tony pointed unerringly at the camera he’d been addressing when he talked to JARVIS a few minutes earlier. “No comments from the peanut gallery!” He huffed slightly and went on, “As I was saying, I might complain, but I’ll still do it. Phil hasn’t steered me wrong yet, and I can’t say that about anyone else in the building except maybe Clint.”

“Shall I remind you of the morning you and Master Clint decided to give the main floor vacuum bot a personality, sir?”

“I said no comments!” Tony exclaimed, giving JARVIS’ camera a dirty look. “And that went wrong because Herbert is _cursed_ , not because Clint helped me program it! Herbie’s always been a little special. That’s what giving him a personality was supposed to _fix_ , only he’s _insane_ so it made it worse!”

Bruce started laughing then, unable to hold it back any longer, and Tony gave him a betrayed look.

“Are you _laughing_ at me?!”

Bruce nodded rapidly, still laughing.

Tony flipped Bruce off despite the amusement that made his brown eyes sparkle and then stomped out of the lab as he said huffily, “Fine! Show yourself around, snickelfritz! I have things to do!”

Bruce just laughed even harder.

 

~*~*~

 

Clint wandered into the main living room, walking over to the couch Steve was on and flopping down on the coffee table in front of Steve, who just stared at Clint in surprise.

“Didn’t you break out so you’d stop having to sit around with nothing to do?” Clint asked after a moment, looking amused.

“Yes,” Steve replied, feeling a bit sheepish as he realized he had been there looking out at the city for quite a while, judging by the sun. “I was enjoying the view, though. Fury didn’t let me really even _see_ the city.” He looked past Clint’s shoulder out over the city, adding, “It’s so different, but I still see so much I recognize, too.”

“Wanna go out?” Clint asked with a hopeful little grin. “We have the whole city at our beck and call.” He paused slightly and then added, “I can get out of your hair if you want, but I figured after a month in jail you’d want to get out and explore, get some fresh air and sunshine.”

Steve smiled, pleased and relieved. He hadn’t known what he would do with his day, completely at a loss because he just had so many _options_ now. Phil, who was most definitely in charge of the Avengers that Steve had been told _he’d_ have to lead, had told Steve that he should feel free to do anything he wanted to do, as long as he did so safely. Phil had told him to ask one of the others to go with him when he wanted to explore the city, so Clint’s offer was especially welcome. “That sounds… Really great.” He paused, searching for a way to put how grateful he felt into words, then decided to go with the truth. “I don’t know how to thank you. I mean, you’ve already done so much for me, and now this, too? I’m sure you had better things to do today.”

“You’re wrong,” Clint said with a soft laugh, looking happy. “Phil’s taking Tony to a meeting with Fury, one that’s _really_ important and concerns a multi-billion-dollar contract Tony has with SHIELD to design and help build a project for them, which means I can’t go. I’d just get bored and then distract Tony, who never likes meetings and likes meeting with Fury even less, so me being there would ruin what Phil has planned and waste the whole day for everyone. That leaves me here with nothing to do but hang around with you or Bruce, and I _really_ want an excuse to go out and just _drive_ a while so I’m starting my campaign with you.” He leaned closer, his grin going wicked and his blue-grey eyes sparkling. “We’re taking out the ‘65 Mustang convertible, unless you’d rather have a roof over your head. I’ve been _dying_ to drive it, and the weather today is perfect to tool around with the top down.”

Steve laughed, surprised. “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” Clint said with a cheerful grin. “You haven’t said what you’d like to see yet.”

“Me?” Steve repeated, eyes widening. “I don’t know anything about what’s out there!”

“Sure you do,” Clint said, still looking cheerful. “New York’s changed, I know, but the _city_ is still there. Can’t you think of somewhere you want to start exploring and seeing what is still where you remember? Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island, Uptown Manhattan, hell, even Coney Island if you want. We’ve got the whole city out there waiting on us, and I haven’t had a decent look around in years so I’ll probably find as much I didn’t know about as you do.”

Steve didn’t even have to think about it. “I’ve never even _been_ to Staten Island or the Bronx so I wouldn’t know if either one changed, and I’m not ready for the crowd at Times Square again, that was just crazy.” He paused, changing his mind suddenly. He had intended to say Coney Island, but he realized he didn’t want to know if the place he remembered so fondly was changed forever. Bucky had loved Coney Island nearly as much as Steve did, and they had often spent a day there wandering around together. Steve decided to go with what had always been home instead, hoping that it wasn’t _completely_ different. “Brooklyn, maybe? That’s where I grew up.”

“Times Square can be a madhouse at rush hour when you saw it, for sure,” Clint agreed, nodding. “I like it best at like, three AM. Then you can see everything and there’s hardly any traffic or tourists.” He grinned. “But hey, Brooklyn would be great, we can swing by the bagel place Phil loves. He’s almost out of lox again, and we’ll need more bagels after breakfast tomorrow.”

“I shall take placing an order off the to-do list, sir,” Jarvis said suddenly, surprising Steve before he remembered the computer that ran the house. “I am sorry, Captain Rogers. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s okay!” Steve said quickly. “You’re great, Jarvis, I’m just not so used to talking to people I can’t see yet.”

“I shall keep that in mind, sir,” Jarvis said, sounding amused. “Would it help to think of me as living in the ceiling? Master Phil seems to prefer it that way.”

“Me, I just go with Jarvis is everywhere,” Clint said then, grinning at Steve. “I even take him with me when I leave the house now that Tony gave me my comm unit.” He looked up at a small spot on the ceiling above the windows that Steve realized suddenly was a camera. “Isn’t that right, Jarvis?”

“It seems to be, sir. The testing _has_ been a success so far,” Jarvis said, pleased. “Your excursion today will aid in building signal loss statistics at a greater distance. The comm should allow you to maintain contact with myself and through me anyone else you need to speak with as long as you remain within five miles of Stark Tower or the Iron Man armor.”

“Wow,” Steve said, his eyes widening. “That would be a life saver in a combat situation.”

“That is the intention, Captain Rogers,” Jarvis replied. “Master Stark and Master Clint have been testing the range of the comm for several days, making small adjustments to the programming and the unit itself to fine-tune the comfort and signal quality, and they have made great strides. Master Stark expects to be ready to pass out the comm units for the rest of the team within the week.”

Steve noticed that Clint was grinning widely towards the stairs, and he turned his head to look, blinking in surprise when he saw Natasha was descending the stairs wearing only an undershirt and the most scandalous long underwear Steve had ever seen with a pair of knee-high boots that had tall heels shaped like spikes. Steve quickly whipped back around to look away, blushing as he asked, “Uh, didn’t you forget something, Miss Romanov? Like your _shirt_? And a skirt, maybe?”

Clint's eyes widened as he muttered, “Oh man, you are _so_ dead.”

Steve barely had time to wonder what Clint was talking about before Natasha vaulted over the back of the couch, moving right into his face and straddling his lap, one arm braced lightly across his throat as she asked pleasantly, “Did I just hear you say that I belong _in a skirt_ , Rogers?”

Steve stared at her wide-eyed. “Why are you __in my lap__?”

Natasha blinked, looking surprised. “Why aren’t you scared?”

“Because I’m too busy trying to figure out _why you are in my lap_!” Steve exclaimed, beginning to get better control over his shock.

Natasha sat back, settling on Steve’s knees like she might stay there a while, giving Steve a narrow-eyed, probing look like she was trying to figure him out. “It seemed like an effective position to punish your macho posturing, only I begin to think your comment was not intended the way I had thought.” She folded her arms, making her breasts more prominent and making Steve blush even more as she added primly, “Perhaps you should explain yourself.”

“I’m not the one wandering around in an undershirt and those… _things_ ,” Steve said huffily, gesturing vaguely towards her pants without looking at them again because they hadn’t left _anything_ to the imagination. “Ladies in _my_ time wore something like those under their skirts when it was particularly cold out, but they wouldn’t have been caught _dead_ in public like that. Not the ones worth calling ladies, anyway.”

Natasha stared at him a moment longer and then laughed suddenly, twisting to look behind her at Clint. “I want to keep him.”

Clint snickered, moving over onto the couch next to Steve and acting like there was nothing at all unusual about Natasha sitting in Steve’s lap in her _underwear_. “Sorry, _milaya_ , no dice. Pepper doesn’t share, remember?”

Natasha snorted, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want to _sleep_ _with him_ , I just want to keep him!” She looked at Steve again then, giving him a sly little smile. “You would like to go with me today, Steve, and you definitely need my help.”

Steve smiled slightly despite himself, feeling very sure he was missing at least half of the conversation but not minding so much. It was nice to see Natasha, who had seemed to be a very stoic, possibly even unhappy person, actually act like the young girl she appeared to be when she smiled. “I’m going with Clint today, but thank you for the offer.” He was going to let the rest of what she said go, but his curiosity got the better of him and he asked, “What do you think I need your help with?”

Natasha ignored Steve’s question, brightening as she looked at Clint. “You’re going out?”

Clint smirked at Natasha. “Steve and I are going to tool around Brooklyn in the ’65 Mustang, let him get the lay of the land.”

Natasha smiled suddenly, looking so beautiful that Steve wished for a sketchpad. “I was going to go shopping.” She looked at Steve again, turning that bright, happy smile on him. “We can go together! Two of my favorite shoe shops are in Brooklyn, and you desperately need new clothes, Steve.”

Steve blinked. “I have clothes. A very nice lady named Mildred gave me a catalog from J.C. Penney’s and had me pick out whatever I wanted.”

Natasha smile faded and she stared as Steve as she asked slowly, “You _chose_ your clothes?”

“What’s wrong with them?” Steve asked, frowning as he looked down at the blue plaid shirt and neatly pressed khakis he wore, then looked back up at Natasha. “It was a modern catalog, and I _like_ these.”

Natasha blinked and then swung off Steve’s lap, settling sideways in Clint’s lap instead as she looked at Clint and said almost mournfully, “He does not see anything wrong with them.”

“No, _milaya_ , he doesn’t,” Clint agreed, looking like he was trying not to laugh. “Not everyone will let you dress them up like I do.”

“But he has such a _beautiful_ body,” Natasha protested, looking back towards Steve and letting her gaze roam over him in a way that made him feel sort of naked and definitely embarrassed. “He should not hide it with such…” She shuddered and turned back to Clint, hiding her face against his neck. “It is a great and painful shame. I may _cry_.”

Clint snickered and gave Natasha a squeeze, teasing softly, “Aww, poor baby girl.”

Natasha swatted Clint’s shoulder, her lips twitching into a slight smile even as she murmured, “ _Khuy_.”

Steve felt his face heating up very red as he muttered without thinking, “Ladies sure do talk different now.”

Natasha picked up her head to look at him, her eyes widening slightly. “You understood that!”

“Yes, I did,” Steve admitted. “I know a little Russian.” He felt like his face was on fire as he admitted, “Mostly swear words, but I understood _milaya_ , too. One of the guys I fought with was really good with languages, and I usually spent my evenings listening to him teach Bucky how to swear in other languages.”

Steve fell silent, remembering how much fun Buck had with the whole game. Steve hadn’t really _meant_ to learn how to swear in five languages, but he had managed to do it anyway because he and Bucky had stuck so close to each other, usually even sharing a bedroll if Buck hadn’t found some local girl to warm his bed. When they were boys it had always been Steve crawling into Buck’s bed because he was cold, but after the serum, it had been Bucky coming to Steve to warm up. Steve’s new body ran hotter than normal people, and Bucky had declared that Steve was better than any heater on more than one snowy night in some lonely camp miles from the nearest safe shelter.

Natasha reached for Steve’s hand suddenly, making him look at her in surprise as she murmured, “He was your _lubovnik_?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he blurted, “God no!” Natasha looked skeptical and Steve flushed as he found himself admitting, “I loved him, but Buck, he loved the ladies.” He looked away, adding softly, “And I didn’t really know what I felt. I had always loved him, ever since we were little kids, but I didn’t realize how much until it was too late.”

“That is always hardest,” Natasha murmured, drawing Steve’s attention back to her. “To love someone deeply and lose them before that love is returned can break even the strongest man.”

“It didn’t break me,” Steve said quietly, giving Natasha a crooked little attempt at a smile despite how painful it still was to think about Bucky too much. “It just feels like it sometimes when I’m missing him.”

Natasha squeezed his hand. “You are not alone anymore, Steve. We are not him, but Clint and I, we both know that pain and would make yours easier if we could.”

Clint nodded, giving Steve a gentle smile. “Anytime you need a little company, I’m your guy. I don’t do anything useful like the others, so I’m usually around.”

Natasha let go of Steve’s hand to swat Clint’s chest, frowning at him. “You are making light of how important you are to us again, Clinton.”

Clint made a face. “Don’t call me that!”

“Don’t act like a fool then,” Natasha responded promptly.

“Fine, I just don’t have an actual job,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. “Is that better, princess?”

Natasha pretended to think about it a moment and then said, “I will let it pass.”

“Gee, thanks,” Clint muttered, looking disgruntled.

Steve had to smile at them, thinking again about how lucky he was Clint had nudged the others into making waves with Fury. He was sure that whatever team Fury built wouldn’t have come together and accepted Steve so completely and easily as Phil and Clint’s little family had from the moment they declared Steve one of them. He hadn’t known until dinner the night before that Phil, Clint, and Tony had been planning for his presence in their lives since the day Steve woke up. Steve had already had friends and a home waiting when he was still trying to accept that his world was gone, and a large part of him wished that Phil, Clint, and Tony had been allowed to take Steve out of SHIELD then as Clint had said they wanted to do. Steve’s early days at SHIELD had been very rough with him spending most of his time either staring at walls or destroying punching bag after punching bag, but he thought it would have been easier for him in a _real_ home.

The elevator binged softly then, making Steve turn towards the sound just in time to see Pepper step out of the elevator. She was wearing a completely different suit than she had worn at breakfast, the flashy red exchanged for a simple black suit that made her look much more serious and accentuated the pale cream of her skin. She cut an elegant, beautiful figure as she walked quickly towards them, reminding Steve so strongly and suddenly of Peggy that it almost took his breath away.

“Tasha honey, have you seen my tablet?” Pepper asked as she walked towards them, looking exasperated. “I was sure I took it up to our suite, but now I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Did you ask Jarvis?” Natasha asked, looking amused.

Pepper stopped, her exasperated expression melting into a sheepish smile. “No.” She looked upwards, her gaze finding a bubble Steve realized was another overhead camera as she asked, “Jarvis, could you track down my tablet, please?”

“I have no need to track it, Miss Potts,” Jarvis said immediately, sounding amused. “It is in Master Phil’s home office, where you left it on his desk after the morning meal when you went to discuss the meeting with Director Fury.”

Pepper threw up her hands. “Of _course_ it is! Thank you, Jarvis.” She turned away to walk briskly off towards the short hallway that led to the sunroom and the three home offices, and Steve admired the figure she cut for a moment before he turned his attention back to Natasha and Clint and found them watching him with almost identical smirks.

“What?” Steve blurted, feeling his face heat up again.

“You also love the ladies, I think,” Natasha said teasingly, looking amused and a bit smug. “I feel I must warn you, if you do more than look at _my_ lady I will have to find out if Captain America bleeds red, white, and blue as the stories say.”

Clint snickered as that as Steve flushed even more and said quickly, “I wouldn’t!  And I bleed red just like everyone else. I’m still human, just… Different than I was.”

“And not as gay as I had thought,” Natasha added, still amused.

Steve didn’t even know what to say to that, but Clint and Natasha were both watching him expectantly and after a minute or so he tried to explain. “I loved Bucky, but I always enjoyed watching a beautiful woman, too. I wouldn’t do more than that, though, not with anyone.”

Clint’s eyes widened as Natasha asked with obvious surprise, “You are a _virgin_?”

Steve felt like his face might actually burst into flame. “It’s not like I had a lot of _chances_! There was a war on!”

“We must find you someone,” Natasha said firmly, then looked at Clint. “It’s a crime for such a beautiful body to be unappreciated.”

“I’m pretty sure people appreciate his body,” Clint said dryly, smirking at Natasha. “They just don’t touch because he’s such an adorably innocent boy scout.” He paused, and then added, “Plus there’s the whole thing where he’s _Captain America._ ”

Natasha looked at Clint a moment longer and then looked at Steve. “You must not tell people that any more. You are just Steve, the sweet, gorgeous man who works security for Tony Stark.” She paused and then shook her head. “On second thought, don’t mention Tony. People would be sure they knew exactly why he keeps you around.”

“I don’t ever tell people that I’m Captain America, they just _knew_ most of the time,” Steve said, exasperated. “And that’s not to only reason I never… did that! It was _illegal_ , people got _killed_ just for a _kiss_ sometimes in the war. Peggy told me about a friend of hers who was shot by his own men after he _flirted_ with a man. I wasn’t going to end up like that, I had too much I had to do, and besides, I loved Peggy too. It wasn’t a lie. I mean, yeah, I loved Buck more, but I could have been _happy_ with Peggy, and without sullying my uniform.”

“You put others ahead of yourself too much,” Clint said then, looking serious and a little sad. “Steve, buddy, don’t do that anymore, okay? Like I told you, it’s _legal_ now to love anyone your great big heart wants, and when you find someone you should go for it, no matter who it is.”

Steve sighed. “That’s easy to say, but right now I’m not even a little bit interested in finding someone, Clint. To _you_ it’s been seventy years since I crashed that plane, but to me it was barely more than a month ago that I lost Buck _and_ Peggy. I’m doing a lot better now, and I can talk about them without wanting to die now at least, but I still need time to get over losing the only two people I ever loved besides my mom.”

Clint and Natasha were silent for a long moment and then Natasha said softly, “We are fools, and inconsiderate of your pain, Steve. I am sorry.”

Clint nodded. “Me too, buddy. I can’t imagine how messed up I’d be if I lost Phil _or_ Tasha. Losing both would kill me.”

Natasha looked at Clint, lifting her hand to his cheek to make him look at her as she said firmly, “You will never take the coward’s way out, Clint Barton, or I will spend the afterlife kicking your ass.”

Clint smiled slightly, but he couldn’t hide the bleak look in his eyes as he replied, “If I lose you and Phil, I’ll hold you to that.”

Natasha sighed leaning her forehead against Clint’s for a moment before she murmured, “ _Ya tozhe tyebya lyublyu_.”

Clint smiled wider. “I know, _milaya_.”

The elevator binged again, making the three of them look towards it as Tony walked out in a sleek black suit that made him look every bit as rich as he was despite the sneakers on his feet. He wore sunglasses with it even in the house, and a jewel-toned purple silk shirt with a narrow black tie that he was still adjusting as he asked cheerfully, “What’re you three planning for today? Something more fun than arguing with Fury, I hope.”

“We are stealing your pony,” Natasha replied with a smirk. “Steve wishes to see Brooklyn, and I want to go shopping. I seem to have broken the heel on another pair of boots.”

“I’d ask what the hell you do to them, but I really don’t want to know,” Tony said, walking over to stand by the coffee table in front of the couch and smirking at Natasha as he slipped one hand into his suit coat, then pulled out a worn leather wallet and deftly tugged out a black piece of plastic he tossed to Natasha. “They’re on me. Get something sexy, I enjoy the view.” He grinned. “Hell, _everything’s_ on me today. Go have a ball, and buy me something fun.”

Natasha smirked, looking wicked as she flipped the piece of plastic, which Steve realized was one of the credit card things like the one he had found on his dresser the night before with the Stark Tower and SHIELD identification cards that had Steve’s picture on them. “With this I could buy _all_ the boots.”

“You could, yep!” Tony agreed cheerfully, grinning. “I never found anything over the limit on that thing. I bought my Tesla with it.”

“Don’t those things cost like a hundred _thousand_ dollars?” Clint asked, looking impressed. “I mean, yeah, they’re fast and flashy, and they don’t need gas, but damn.”

Steve blinked, wondering if a Tesla was some kind of airplane until Tony laughed and said, “Wait till you drive it, Clint. I got all the bells and whistles in mine, and it’s a _dream_ of a car.”

“You paid that for a _car_?!” Steve blurted, shocked.

Tony smirked at Steve. “I’ve paid much more than a hundred thou for a nice car, Steve. That’s _pocket change_ for me.”

Steve just stared at Tony, completely unable to find any words to describe how crazy that seemed to him. He knew a dollar was worth a lot less now after Clint gave him two hundred dollars to pay for a cab ride that turned out to be barely a mile, but he hadn’t realized it was quite that drastic. “I’ll never be able to wrap my mind around that,” He said half to himself.

“He makes it sound a lot more normal than it is, Steve,” Clint said then, sounding amused. Steve looked at Clint, who was smirking slightly as he said, “Tesla Roadsters are _very_ expensive cars. You can get a really nice top-of-the-line new car for under twenty thousand. Ten will get you a reliable little car to get around in, and you can get by on _two_ thousand if you just need a used one that runs. Tony’s just got a twisted idea of what’s pocket change.”

“Master Phil wishes me to remind you _again_ that you are making him late, sir,” Jarvis said suddenly. “He also wishes me to tell you that if you aren’t at the lobby elevator in thirty seconds he will invite Director Fury to spend the weekend here with his fiancé.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Bye.” He started walking towards the hallway that led to the main elevator in the sunroom.

Clint snorted. “Run, you bastard! I don’t want to sleep in the same building as them either!”

Tony glanced back at Clint and then Jarvis said dryly, “You are down to fifteen seconds, sir.”

“Shit!” Tony bolted, which made Natasha dissolve into surprisingly girly giggles.

Steve looked at Clint, amused. “Would Phil _really_ invite Fury and his lady friend here?”

“Yep,” Clint said with a wry grin. “He never makes a threat he’s not prepared to follow through on, and he knows Tony hates the whole _idea_ of Fury and Hill setting foot in his home.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Steve said, making a mental note not to argue when Phil told him to do something. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of threats Phil would make to him.

Natasha managed to stifle her giggles, jumping up off Clint’s lap and then declaring, “We are wasting daylight!” She twirled the card Tony had given her and then tucked it into her skimpy blouse, giving Steve a glimpse of a silky black strap that made him look quickly away, blushing again. “I want to ride around in the pony, have lunch somewhere that sells rare delicious steaks the size of my _head_ , and spend Tony’s money on clothes and shoes. We can talk in the car.”

Clint laughed and stood. “C’mon, Steve. You heard the lady.”

Steve got up too, smiling at the thought of getting to see not only the car that Clint and Natasha both seemed to think was so special, but also more of the city. “Lead the way.”

“Good boys! Heel!” Natasha strode off in the direction Tony had gone with a smirk, adding, “Jarvis, have the car brought around front, please.”

Steve and Clint looked at each other, both amused, and then they followed Natasha obediently.

“I already took the liberty of doing that, Miss Romanov,” Jarvis replied, sounding amused. “The gas tank has been topped off and there is a member of the security force waiting with the car to ensure its safety until you take possession of the keys.”

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Natasha said, still smirking. “Please redirect any calls for me to the Mustang or to Clint’s phone today. I don’t have any pockets.”

“Of course, Miss Romanov,” Jarvis agreed.

Natasha reached the elevator then and stopped, making a face when she saw that the numbers above the door were still steadily going down. She turned to Steve and Clint then, tilting her head as she gave them an appraising look and then met Steve’s gaze and said firmly, “I _am_ buying you some clothes today, Steve. If you do not like them you don’t have to wear them, but I must try. You dress like Pepper’s _grandfather_.”

“I’m probably the same age as him, Steve pointed out dryly.

“The date of your birth is not your actual age,” Natasha pointed out. “You are no more than twenty-five.”

“If you count only the years I remember personally, I’m twenty-three,” Steve admitted. “But I was still born in the nineteen twenties.”

“A man your age would only dress as you do if he were developmentally challenged or a—” Natasha looked at Clint. “Mother’s boy?”

“Mama’s boy,” Clint corrected, grinning as he looked at Steve obviously appraising his clothes. “A _geeky_ mama’s boy even.” He smirked at Steve, adding, “We can do _so_ much better for you, Steve. More comfortable, too.”

“Just a few things,” Steve agreed reluctantly, amused.

“Jarvis said you’re going for a drive and out to lunch,” Bruce said then, and Steve turned his head to see Bruce was walking towards them from the living room looking interested. “Is there room for one more?”

Clint grinned. “Always room for one more, Bruce!”

The elevator binged open then, and Natasha walked into it as she said, “I call shotgun. I don’t care where the rest of you sit. You may ride on the bumpers if you wish.”

Steve laughed, following her into the elevator as Clint said, “I’m driving, so that leaves in the back with Steve for you, Bruce.”

“Works for me,” Bruce agreed easily, following them into the elevator.

Steve looked around at the other three as the elevator began to go downward, smiling and feeling pretty good at the thought of spending the day with his new friends. He might not know them especially well yet, but he had a feeling they were going to be as close as family to him in no time, and he kind of liked the idea.

Steve figured he could have done a lot worse.

_  
_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Russian translations, again from multiple sites found through Google:
> 
>  _milaya_ = 'dear', ‘darling’  
>  _khuy_ = ‘dick’  
>  _lubovnik_ = ‘male lover’  
>  _Ya tozhe tyebya lyublyu._ = ‘I love you too.’  
>  _lutchshi drukk_ = ‘best friend’


End file.
